As Best He Could
by azkabcn
Summary: It is at the Watson family gathering that she first sees him. It is then that he first hurts her, that he humiliates her. But even then, she is intrigued. She is intrigued by his unusual mind. He is intrigued by her warm heart and gentle being. She wants to know more; he wants to open up to her. She is Kodi Watson. He is Sherlock Holmes. Trigger warning: rape and murder.
1. Old Reminders and a Dinner Disaster

**Hey, everyone! Welcome to my very first Sherlock multi-chapter! As you can see, it's called As Best He Could and while it doesn't focus on Johnlock, I hope you all enjoy it. I would love to see your reviews. Even if you don't like it, let me know** _ **what**_ **you don't like, so I can see if I can fix it, or see if I can add something to suit your tastes. That's all, I guess. Enjoy.**

'Harry…' I warned, eyeing the glass bottle my older sister was reaching for. 'That's your fourth bottle today.'

I knew she would ignore me. She always did. She positioned her fingers around the neck of the alcohol bottle and raised it to her lips. 'Harry!' I screeched. I lunged forward and whisked the bottle out of her grip before any of the liquid could slip down her throat.

She glared at me while I screwed the lid back on the bottle. 'I hate you, Kodilla,' she muttered, her words already a little slurred.

'See?' I pointed out. 'You're already a bit tipsy. John's going to kill you if he finds out you're drunk.'

'I couldn't give a stuff what John thinks,' she countered.

I walked over to the doorway of our living room. I looked back at her with a scoff. 'You'll rethink that when he gives you another one of his lectures. Now, go and get changed. He and Sherlock are arriving soon.'

I walked out of the living room, ready to go and change myself, but then I poked my head back in the room. 'And, my name is Kodi. Not Kodilla.'

I slipped the bottle back into the kitchen fridge without waiting for her reply. I ran back upstairs and slammed the door to my room. My thigh-length midnight blue dress sat waiting for me on my bed, along with my white fur coat.

It was the first Christmas we would spend as a whole family in six years. Harry wasn't keen on family dinners, only because they consisted of our brother's rants and lectures.

John hated the fact that Harry was 'a severe drunkard'. He wouldn't even use the term 'alcoholic'. And he made sure that Harry knew that he hated it, using incredibly strong language and insults. That made Harry loathe John, which made for a horribly sour brother-sister relationship.

John and I, however, got along like bread and butter. We shared our interest in getting Harry off the drugs, although I went about it in a softer way than John did. I didn't want to ruin my relationship with Harry, even though she wished I would stop nagging at her.

I picked up my dress, running my hand over the soft silkiness. It was my favourite dress; my ex-boyfriend Liam bought it for me on my birthday a year ago.

I got undressed and put the dress on, before my phone pinged.

 **On our way in fifteen minutes. Sherlock just having a bit of trouble with his suit! - JW**

I laughed at John's text. I didn't know why, considering today would be the first time I met his flatmate. I guess I was just thinking, _who the heck has trouble with a_ suit?

I positioned my fingers over the keypad on my phone, ready to type out a reply.

 **Get here when you can. We're almost done preparing. See you soon. - KW**

I sat at my dressing table to do my hair. I pulled it free from its messy ponytail and picked up my brush.

As I brushed my hair, I couldn't help but think about John's flatmate. Sherlock Holmes. John had described him as a 'socially-awkward, often rude but totally gorgeous sociopath'. I had to take my brother's word on that. Being bisexual, John really knew how to pick out the hot ones. But would he reciprocate John's feelings? I had heard enough of men breaking my brother's heart that way.

I cleared my mind, focusing on the task at hand. I pinned my bun into place with a couple of hairpins and then set about doing my makeup.

After getting dressed, I went back downstairs to see my parents laying the table.

My mother glanced at me as she placed a dish in the middle of the table. 'Give us a hand, won't you, Kodi? Harry's disappeared into the bathroom again.'

She and I both rolled our eyes as I stepped into the kitchen to help her. I gently plucked the quiche from my father's hand, placing it on one of our chocolate mats. As I reached into the drawer for the cutlery, I said, 'John and Sherlock will be here soon. John said they'd leave soon.'

At that second, Harry emerged from the downstairs bathroom. 'Is there still a chance I could back out of this?'

My mother, father and I all shook our heads. 'It's about time you started interacting with the family again, dear,' Mum told her.

'Whatever,' she mumbled. 'I'm going upstairs.'

She retreated from the kitchen.

 _Ding-dong._

'I'll get it!' I announced, literally running up to our front door.

I flung the door open and threw my arms around John. I heard him chuckle as he hugged me back.

And then I heard a baritone voice say, 'John, I didn't follow you here to be kept outside.'

John immediately let me go, rolling his eyes, and pushed me aside to let the man behind him enter the house.

This was his flatmate. This was Sherlock Holmes. I stared at him, transfixed. John was right. He _was_ gorgeous.

He had a long, black coat draped over his incredibly slim figure, with only a few centimetres of black trousers and his black patent shoes showing from underneath. He had a navy blue scarf wrapped around his neck. His hair was a mess of black curls, unruly and untamed. His eyes were the most amazing mixture of blue-green I had seen. Beautiful.

Sherlock walked past us into the house, slipping his coat and scarf off along the way. He hung them on the hooks fixed on the stairs. He was in a black suit with a white shirt, the top button undone.

'Sherlock, no one gave you the invitation to go and make yourself feel at home,' John scolded.

'I know,' he replied. He turned to my father, who had just come out of the kitchen. He held his hand out saying, 'Good afternoon. I'm Sherlock Holmes.'

Dad shook his hand. 'Josh Watson. Good afternoon to you too,' he replied.

John muttered to me as they both went into the living room: 'Just out of interest, how many bottles has Harry had since I last saw her?'

Since he last saw her? John and Harry saw each other at our house four months ago. 'I don't know, but today alone she's had four,' I whispered.

I saw John's brow furrow. 'Right. I'll corner her about it later.'

I smirked as a thought crossed my mind. 'Hey, is Sherlock always this hot?'

John's frown instantly moulded into a smirk that matched mine. 'Yeah. But this isn't his hottest. Not even close to it.'

I raised an eyebrow. _That looks pretty hot to me._ 'It isn't?'

John shook his head, smiling like a maniac. 'Nope. When he puts on that tight purple shirt of his with those skinny black jeans and actually makes an effort with his hair, you should see him. Oh god, _that_ is when he looks beautiful.'

'Does he know?' I asked. 'About your sexuality?'

We started up the stairs. Harry came out of her room at that point and she and John glared at each other. I swallowed, waiting to see if an argument would brew. However, John knew better than to taunt her, so he just opened the door to his old room (the now spare room) and we sat on the bed.

John looked around, commenting how the room hadn't changed since the last time he'd been here.

'John!' I called, reminding him about my question.

'Oh, yeah. I haven't told him, but he probably knows. He is Sherlock Holmes, after all.'

My eyebrow shot to my hairline. What did that mean? I voiced my thoughts.

'Kodi,' John sighed, as if I should know this. 'Sherlock can tell an accountant from the amount of hair product he uses, he can tell how many affairs someone's had by looking at their shoes. If he doesn't know my sexuality by now, then there's something wrong with him.'

No one, I repeat _no one_ can tell if someone's an accountant by looking at volumes of hair product. Right? That was just impossible. Beyond human possibilities.

My phone pinged again.

 **Hey! Is Sherlock at yours yet? Is he hot? What's he look like? Give me details, girl! - T**

I laughed. That was Tara for you. Tara Grahams was my best friend. She was my support (along with my parents and John) when Liam broke my heart in the worst possible way. She kept me going when everything else let me down.

 **Yes, he is. And he is** _ **hella**_ **hot. Literally. But John said that he can go even hotter. Chat later, bit busy. - KW**

I looked up to see John smiling at me. 'What?' I asked him.

'Was that Grahams?' he asked.

'Might have been,' I replied indignantly.

Mum poked her head into the room. 'Er, John,' she asked. 'Is everything alright with Sherlock? He seems a bit… patronising.'

John heaved a sigh. 'That's Sherlock,' he explained. Just ignore his patronisation. He can be really sweet when he's not patronising.'

'Right…' Mum went off into her own world for a second but then shook her head. 'Well, we were thinking we could get lunch done now?'

John and I both nodded, getting off the bed. 'Alright, Mum,' I said, wrapping my arm round her shoulders.

At the table, as I took my place in between John and Mum, I caught Sherlock squinting at me across the table. I raised an eyebrow at him, but it didn't stop him looking as if he were studying me.

He opened his mouth to speak, but John got in there first. 'Don't, Sherlock!' he warned.

But Sherlock dismissed it. 'Kodi Watson, am I correct?'

I gave him a nod, suddenly unable to speak. What was he trying to do?

'How are you coping after that very messy break up of yours?'

I heard John groan.

I couldn't answer; the words wouldn't go past my lips. Not that Sherlock gave me any time to answer.

'Am I right in thinking you actually thought Liam would come back to you? That he'd leave his current, more _pleasing_ girlfriendfor you? That you lost your assistant librarian job because you couldn't cope with the reality of relationships in your workspace? Really, Kodi. I thought you were strong. Yes, Liam was incredibly unfair, writing you a break-up song, but-'

I didn't hear anymore. I couldn't stand it.

I heard John say, 'Have you had enough now, Sherlock?'

I ran up the stairs at lightning speed. I slammed the door to my bedroom, curling up on my bed.

How had I thought this guy was cute? He was cute looking, yes, but nowhere near cute-minded.

The tears sprang to my eyes at the terrible memories. I closed my eyes, trying not to let the tears fall. I had vowed I wouldn't cry over him. That I wouldn't shed a tear when I was reminded of him.

I probably wouldn't have, if Sherlock had said it in a nicer way. Not like he thought I was a bad person for it.

I heard my phone ring but I paid no attention to it. I needed to let out the tears.

And that was what I was going to do after six months of bottling it up inside me.

 **Done! What did you think? Leave a review? Please?**


	2. Apologies and Thoughts of Relocation

Hours later, I opened my eyes to someone knocking on my bedroom door. It seemed I had cried myself to sleep after the disastrous events of dinner.

The door opened and Mum walked in. She had changed into a t-shirt and tracksuit bottoms.

'Hey, sweetie,' she said as she sat on my bed. 'How are you feeling?'

I sighed, sitting up.

'I don't know,' I replied. 'Kind of feeling numb, I suppose.' I shrugged.

'Yeah.' She looked away for a second then said, 'He and John have gone back to their flat, you know.'

I hummed in response. 'Come downstairs when you're ready,' she said, walking over to the door. 'And check your phone.' She walked out without saying anything else.

I raised an eyebrow but then took my phone from my bedside table. There were two texts, one from John and the other from Tara.

 **How are you feeling, sis? I talked to Sherlock. Made it clear to him he's never to do that again. - JW**

 **Hi, Kodes! John called and told me what Sherlock said. He has some nerve! I called your mum and she said you're asleep. Text me when you're awake. I'll be at yours in five from then. - T**

I smiled. This is how much my brother and my best friend cared about me. How much they helped me get through life.

I set about replying to both their texts.

 **I'm alright, I guess. Is he always like that? - KW**

 **I'm awake now. - KW**

I leant back on my bed, sighing. I had been looking forward to this dinner. The first family Christmas in six years. A dinner where our family was complete: Mum, Dad, Harry, John and me. And Sherlock. He wasn't part of our family. I didn't actually understand why he was even invited.

John replied to my text.

 **Most of the time, yeah. Sometimes he can be so incredibly sweet. And afraid. But I like him most when he's sweet. - JW**

* * *

True to her word, five minutes later, Tara opened the door to my room. She tended to do that. She never knocked – well. She knocked on a minimalist level. She just barged straight in most of the time.

'Hi,' she said.

I nodded at her. 'Hey.'

She also chose to perch on the end of my bed. As she crossed her legs, her white dress fanned out around her, making her look like what I had always said was a flower.

'You know, Ben was telling me tonight how Christmas always seems to get less and less happy each year. Have you noticed that?'

I stared at her, wondering how her brother came into this. 'Not… really,' I replied, unsure of where this was going.

'Oh. That's what Ben thinks. I actually think it gets happier.'

'Tara,' I said, stopping her in her tracks. 'Where is this meant to be going?'

She shrugged, giving me a sheepish smile. 'Distraction,' she said simply.

'Ah.' I nodded, now understanding.

'Hey, you wanna go out somewhere?' she asked. 'I know a few shops that are still open.'

I did. But I couldn't. The memories were coming back up again and I couldn't. I couldn't risk seeing the sight. The sight of happy couples that made my heart ache. I couldn't do it. It was impossible.

I shook my head. 'No. I can't,' I replied. 'The memories are fresh in my mind for a second time. I can't chance it. You've seen what could happen.'

Tara rolled her eyes. 'Oh come on, Kodi!' she complained. 'It's been six, nearly seven, whole months! You won't have a panic attack after _six months_!'

I glared at her. 'Well you can go out on your own. I'm not going to risk having a panic attack in public.'

Tara sighed. 'Look. I know this is hard, Kodi. Really painful, in fact. But you need to take chances if you want to get better,' she explained. 'I know how hard this is and I agree that Telling was a twat. But you haven't seen him for three months. I highly doubt you'll see him now.'

'I guess so…' I replied, still hesitant.

'And even if you do see him,' Tara continued. 'You won't have to talk to him. Let me handle that.'

I chuckled then. 'You'll make things worse, T. You know how big your mouth can get.'

She feigned looking hurt. 'Don't make that face at me!' I scolded, as if I was a mother talking to my child. 'You know you have a tendency to say the wrong thing at the wrong time!'

She sighed and gave in. 'Alright, alright. You have me there. We'll just go past him silently.'

I knew she wasn't going to let the subject drop until I said yes. But I wasn't going to say yes.

At least, not yet.

'He could still talk to _us_. He did that for three whole months. I didn't reply but it still hurt.'

Tara sighed deeply. She asked if I would go with her next time.

 _Next time?_ This was very un-Tara-like. Tara would never usually give in until she got her own way. This symbolised two things. One, she was upset with me. Two, we were on our way to an argument. I realised it was probably the first.

'Tara?' I said. She turned away from me. I apologised and said yes, I promised I would go with her next time.

She stood up off my bed. 'I'll go home, then,' she said, still not meeting my eye. 'Hope you feel better. See you later.'

'See you later,' I replied in a whisper before the door slammed shut.

I sighed again. This was one of the rare times Tara and I were on non-speaking terms and I didn't like it a single bit. It was horrible. It made me feel hollow inside, like a part of me was missing.

If anything, we should have invited Tara to the dinner instead of Sherlock. Tara wasn't rude, she knew my family well enough, she was nowhere _near_ patronising and I wouldn't have mixed feelings about her, like I now did about Sherlock.

I sighed. How could such a gorgeous person be so rude?

I shook my head, trying not to think about this any further. I went downstairs, planning to help my parents clear up and check on Harry.

* * *

 **Come over to ours? Need to show you something. - JW**

It was a couple of days after Boxing Day, making it five days since the Watson dinner.

I had just received a text from John. At nine twenty three AM.

Why did he have to 'show me something' so early? Couldn't he have waited until I was actually awake, like a normal person would?

John wasn't normal. A year of living with Sherlock had turned him abnormal. But, unlike the oh-so delightful Mr Holmes, he was still kind and caring. He was still soft and gentle. He was still my brother.

So I replied to his text, saying I would be there in ten minutes. I got up and dressed myself, and then went to grab some breakfast. After my parents asked where I was headed so early in the morning, I told them I was going to Baker Street.

They both raised an eyebrow but waved me off. Before I closed the door, I heard my father say, 'That Holmes guy better apologise to my daughter. Or else he won't know what hit him.'

I chuckled. My father, trying to fight. Just too funny a sight, it was.

I caught a taxi, as I was in no mood to walk in the pouring rain. A rare luxury. It just so happened that I had some spare cash on me left over from my parents' Christmas present.

When I reached 221b Baker Street for the first time ever, I knocked with the brass knocker.

An elderly lady opened the door and I recognised her to be Mrs Hudson, John and Sherlock's landlady (plus housekeeper). I smiled as she asked who I was.

'Kodi Watson. John's younger sister. I'm here to see him.'

Her face fell. 'I'm afraid John's just popped out, dear,' she said.

Great. Now I have to walk back home in the rain. I wished I had held onto the cab.

'Would you like to wait inside?' she continued. 'Saves you walking back home in the horrible weather. Snow's been delayed this year.' She tutted, shaking her head.

I hesitated. 'When will John be back?' I asked her.

'Oh, my best guess is in twenty minutes.'

Twenty minutes. I had to survive twenty minutes of Sherlock.

However, I decided I would go inside. Twenty minutes wasn't a long time. I could try and patch things up with Tara. After all, we hadn't spoken since the dinner.

I told her I would wait inside for John. She smiled and said, 'Alright. Don't worry about Sherlock. John's put him in his place. Make yourself at home, love.'

She waved me up the stairs. I walked up, unsure of exactly why I was here.

The first thing I saw when I got inside was the living room. The very _messy_ living room. Papers were scattered everywhere apart from on two arm chairs: a green one and a red one. There was no one in there so I assumed Sherlock must have been in his bedroom or something.

I made my way to the green chair, since it looked most comfortable.

'Don't sit in my chair,' I heard Sherlock say.

I jumped: it was so unexpected in the seemingly quiet flat. I whipped my head round to see Sherlock in the… kitchen? There was so much science equipment on the table that it looked like a lab.

He looked into a microscope saying, 'Feel free to sit on John's though.'

I raised an eyebrow but then turned so I could sit in the red one. I took my phone from my pocket, planning on texting Tara, but Sherlock distracted me as he sat on his chair.

'Uh, Kodi?' he asked quietly.

I looked expectantly at him. 'Yes?'

He took a deep breath. 'I… I'm… sorry. For my words on Sunday evening. It has…' Another deep breath. 'It has come to my attention that… what I said was incredibly unfair and quite rude of me.'

I saw him swallow. This _was_ Sherlock Holmes, right? John had always told me that Sherlock was very confident.

Maybe he was scared of apologising. Or maybe he was scared that the person he was apologising to wouldn't accept it.

I was all set to accept his apology but I had to find out one thing first. 'Did John put you up to this? Or do you mean it?'

He breathed out. 'Both.'

'Well, I forgive you. You're right, you were rude but I have no proof that that's what you're always like, so all I can do is forgive you. Forgive and forget, right?'

I _did_ have proof that Sherlock was always like that, if John's complaining texts were anything to go by, but, of course, I couldn't say that.

He beamed. 'Thank you.'

Just then, John came bounding into the room. 'Hey guys!'

I got off his chair, saying, 'You're back early.'

He shrugged. 'I found what I was looking for quicker than I expected.' He frowned as he saw me standing. 'Kodi, sit down.'

'But-'

'No. Sit. Down,' he said firmly. I sat.

He walked up to me, handing me a red velvet box. 'Have a look at that.'

I took the box and opened it. Inside was a silver diamond ring. It had a diamond heart shape sitting on top and diamonds lining the outside. There was an inscription on the inside reading: _Please?_ in swirly cursive writing. I smiled. It was beautiful.

I closed the box and gave it back to John. 'You're proposing to Molly?'

He grinned, nodding.

Molly Hooper was his year-long girlfriend. She was a pathologist at St. Bartholomew's hospital. I felt happy for them. They had more ups than they did downs but when they did have an argument, they managed to work through it.

'Congrats, John.' I smiled at him. 'It's a sweet ring, I have to say.'

'She told me she liked it when we went out the other night.'

'Ah. When you going to do it?'

'I'm moving to hers soon.' He turned to Sherlock, who was watching us, mildly amused. 'It could be permanent, mate. You might have to find another flatmate.'

'I can live by myself. Or I'll move closer to my parents.'

John scoffed. 'What about Mrs Hudson?'

Sherlock stopped. 'Ah. Yes. I guess I'll just live on my own.' His voice was considerably saddened.

I wanted to say _I'll move in with you._ But I couldn't. I'd only know him for five days and he was rude to me on the first day.

 _But he apologised._

Yes, and I don't know him.

 _You can move away from your parents and Harry._

I could… I could leave my parents in peace.

I couldn't. I'd think about it, yes. But I couldn't. Not now. Not yet.

Lots of things stood at stake here. I couldn't just do this. It required a lot of thought.

I needed to talk to someone who knew Sherlock well. Someone other than John.

Molly. I needed to talk to Molly.

I said to my brother and his best friend that I needed to go. That I had something else I needed to take care of.

They bid me farewell and I was on my way.

* * *

 **Chapter 2 done! What did you guys think? I'd like to say thank you to discountdiamond and FishtheCat for their follows and reviews, DemontaDark for the follow and ClanaFan01 for the favourite and follow. I really appreciate it. Thank you.**


	3. New Information and Rethinking Logics

After getting into Bart's and finding my way to the morgue, I greeted Molly with a cheerful, 'Hey, Molly!'

She looked my way, smiled and replied, 'Hi.'

I walked up to the table she was working at but then instantly shielded my eyes. She was cutting open some dead woman and that was something I just couldn't stomach. 'Anything you need, Kodi?'

'Gross!' I complained. I turned my back on the body. 'I need to talk to you, Moll, but I'd rather do it facing the wall, if you don't mind.'

She chuckled. 'That's fine. Not everyone likes cutting up cadavers. What's up?'

How do I start? What exactly was I here for?

'You're pretty good friends with Sherlock, right?' Seemed like a good place to start, didn't it?

'Yeah. I guess so.'

'What's… have you ever stayed the night with him? Or spent a day at the flat? Before John was around?'

I heard her inhale sharply. I suddenly didn't think it was a good idea to have done this. 'Yeah… But the last time I stayed over at his was a year ago, before he knew John.

'After John moved in with him, he sort of forgot about me. The only reasons I still talk to him now is because we've got John to keep our friendship glued together. And because he needs me to have access to the morgue.'

I nodded, even though I knew she couldn't see me. 'Right. So… what… what's he like to be around? I only met him a week or so ago, and to be honest, I'm intent on finding out more about him.'

'Ooh,' she hummed. I rolled my eyes. 'Any particular reason for that, Kodes?'

Now I was stumped. I couldn't mention John's plan. It would ruin everything.

'I… just want to know what he's like as a flatmate.'

'Well, our John's the best person to ask for- oh! Is it because John's moving to my flat soon?'

I breathed out, relieved. 'Yeah. I noticed he looked stricken when John told him he was going to need to find another flatmate. I know I hardly know him all that well.' _And he was as rude as hell to me the day we met._ 'But if I can help him, it'll stop John worrying. And believe me, I know John will worry.'

'Yeah,' Molly replied. 'John's a worrier. I'll need to drum that out of him.

'But anyway, Sherlock plays the violin. It's his way of expressing emotions. He can't express them by talking. He just can't. He'll play it when he's thinking, he'll play it when he's annoyed, when he's upset. His music changes as his emotions do. He plays rough music to express annoyance, slow music for sadness and just a simple tune when he's thinking.'

I raised an eyebrow. 'He never plays it when he's happy?'

'Once. According to John, he played it out of happiness _once_. It was when they'd solved the case they'd been working on for two months.'

'What, you mean the one with that guy, Henry Knight? The one where he thought there was a hound in the moor?'

'Yeah, that one,' Molly replied. She started walking away. 'Right, I'm done. I'll just clear up and we can go and sit in the café if you want?'

'Alright,' I replied. 'And yeah, John told me about that case. I feel sorry for Knight, though. Having your father murdered at a young age and then having the nightmares and visions come back to you in adulthood is harsh.'

Molly nodded as she wheeled the table away. 'Yeah. But he's not alone. John and he are quite good friends now, I think.'

We started walking out of the morgue. 'Yeah, I know. It's good of him to help Henry. I guess he needed it.'

'Well, that's John. Always willing to help others.'

'Yeah. I guess… I guess in a way John's helping himself. He needs people to talk to as well. Yeah, he's got me and you but we've not gone through the pain, physical _and_ mental, he has.'

'But,' Molly queried. 'You were chucked by your boyfriend. In the worst possible way.'

I nodded, wishing she never reminded me.

 _No._ I'd shed _all_ my tears on Liam on the night of our family dinner. No memories were ever going to make me cry over him again. 'I… still don't think it's the same kind of pain. Liam never physically hurt me.'

We reached the café. We walked in and sat right at the back at a table for two. 'That's… a good point, to be honest. I never thought of it that way.'

I agreed. 'I guess John's had it the hardest out of all four of us.'

'Exactly.'

My phone pinged.

 **Can I meet you somewhere please? - T**

I frowned. Wasn't Tara _not_ speaking to me? What made her think that she and I could get into an argument and then she could ask me to meet her somewhere? I knew I wanted to patch our friendship up again, but her text had alighted an anger inside of me.

'You OK?' I heard from somewhere in front of me.

I looked up to see Molly looking at me, a frown of concern written all over her face.

'Kinda.' I had wanted to send a text but then I decided a call would be better. 'Do you mind if I just make a call?'

She shook her head. 'No, no. It's fine. Go ahead.'

I smiled, nodding. I dialled Tara's number, biting my thumbnail as I waited.

'You couldn't have texted?' was what she greeted me with.

I glowered. 'Excuse me?' I asked her.

'I'm kind of busy right now. If I could have called, I would have done.'

'You didn't have to answer the call, Grahams. You could have just ignored me.'

'Well, I decided I would. Is that a problem, Miss Watson?'

'Look, can we just get to the point? I have other things I could be getting on with.'

I heard her sigh heavily.

I caught sight of Molly looking at me with a very strange expression on her face. I smiled at her in an attempt to tell her everything was alright. She averted her gaze but didn't look as if she believed me.

'Are you busy?'

Since _when_ did Tara ask me if I was busy? She usually just headed straight into her speech without another care in the world.

'… Well, _yes_ , but-'

'Well, if you're busy, then you're of no help. So yeah. Bye!'

I only got halfway through her name before she cut the call. 'What the hell just went on?' I mused to myself.

'Everything OK?' Molly asked me softly.

'Yeah-' Her stern glare told me it was no use trying to lie to her. 'Oh, alright, fine.' I sighed, slumping back in my chair. 'My friend Tara and I were on non-speaking terms and we kind of just pushed ourselves further away from each other.'

'Oh. Well, I'm sure Tara will come round soon enough.'

Then, my phone pinged once again.

 **When are you coming home, Kodes? - JW**

Dad. I looked at my watch, and my eyes widened as I realised that it was nearly quarter to twelve. I'd somehow blown away two hours with John, Sherlock and Molly.

I texted back immediately.

 **I'm gonna leave right now. Expect me home in fifteen. Sorry for leaving you guys waiting. - KW**

'Moll, I gotta run. My parents need me home,' I said, standing up.

'Are they OK?' she asked.

'They're fine. It's just that I've been gone from home for two hours. They worry about me.'

She stood up, nodding. 'Alright. See you soon?'

'See you soon,' I confirmed. 'And thanks for the info on Sherlock, by the way.'

'No probs. Hope everything becomes clearer soon.'

After a quick hug and a thank you, I left Molly at Bart's café and went about going home. The rain had stopped long ago, so I had no qualms with walking home this time.

As I walked, I was filled with immense guilt. Molly had to work. She was two years younger than me and she was working hard while I wasn't working at all. I was twenty seven and jobless. This wasn't good.

But then I realised it wasn't my fault. Sort of. Liam had killed my ability to 'cope with the reality of relationships in my workspace' as Sherlock so kindly put it. I am not ashamed to say that I loved my librarian job. I really did. But four panic attacks after witnessing happy couples saw me fired.

Julie was my boss (and a very _good_ boss, might I add) but she never understood why I would panic after seeing two people happy and in love. She never understood that my heart was slowly shattering with each new glimpse.

I sighed. I was not a part of London's Luscious Library anymore and I had told myself months ago that I wouldn't care if I was one. I would find a job somewhere else soon enough: there were many jobs out there. I just needed to be patient.

'Kodi?' I suddenly heard a voice say.

I turned on my heel to find Sherlock advancing towards me. 'Yes?' I said impatiently as I rolled my eyes. Trust me to bump into Sherlock when he was the last person I wanted to see.

'Hello,' he said as he quickly caught up with me.

'Hi. What do you want?' I replied.

He sighed. 'John sent me out to do the shopping because he couldn't be bothered,' he explained.

'Good,' I replied bitterly. 'It's about time you helped John with the housework. He's not the only guy living in 221b, you know.'

'I need to stay at home. I need to _think_!'

I frowned as we walked. 'Yeah. Of course you do,' I said through gritted teeth. Sherlock was constantly annoying me. I was seriously rethinking my decision to think about going to live with him. 'So you're the housewife while John is the working husband?' I asked rhetorically.

'If we were a married gay couple, then the answer to your question would be yes. But since I am not gay, since we are not married, I will have to say no. I am just the stay at home sort of man while John likes being outdoors.'

'Yeah, that's why he couldn't be bothered,' I muttered.

We reached my road, and Sherlock stopped me on the corner. 'Please, do speak louder. My ears do not function as well as they used to.'

I growled. 'Nothing, it doesn't matter.' A thought struck me. 'So you _do_ know that John's bisexual!'

He scoffed. 'Of course I do, Miss Watson. The signs are everywhere – from the way he talks, the way he looks at both males and females exactly the same.'

I held my breath before I asked the next question. 'Sherlock… has John ever looked at you… like that? Like he… desired you?'

Sherlock screwed up his face. 'I don't know, I've probably deleted it. But he might have.'

I sighed, rolling my eyes. I should have known that asking questions like that to Sherlock wouldn't work.

'Look, my parents don't want you at our house, OK? You won't follow me, you won't come in and you will get onto your shopping as soon as I leave here. Yes?'

He shook his head, his still-unruly curls bobbing up and down. 'I thought your parents wanted me to apologise and then all would be well?'

I clucked my tongue. 'Not everyone can forgive and forget, Sherlock. And _I'm_ starting to regret my decision of forgiving you now: you are really starting to annoy the hell out of me.'

'But-'

'Get John to explain to you what it means to forgive. Because clearly you don't know.'

I walked away, leaving him looking puzzled.

How on _Earth_ did the idea of living with this man ever cross my mind? He obviously didn't know how to socialise all that well. It would be hell living with him. So now I was decided.

Living with Sherlock Holmes was a crossed out idea in my mind. And that's all it would stay.

* * *

 **Finished! What did you guys think? Thanks to all of you who followed and favourited, and to discountdiamond for the only review last chapter. Can I at least have five reviews before next chapter?**


	4. Mistakes, Losses and Gains of Love

I opened the door to the house with my key. The first thing I saw was Dad looking very strangely at me.

'Anything wrong, Dad?' I asked, putting my phone down on the telephone stand as I undid my shoelaces.

'Did he say sorry?' he asked.

I raised my eyebrow as I stood straight again. 'Who, Sherlock?' Dad nodded. 'Yes, he did. And I forgave him. But I'm starting to regret my decision.'

Wrong move.

'What has he done, Kodi?' he asked me firmly.

I smiled lightly. 'He just doesn't know the meaning of forgiveness. But it's fine. I bet John'll tell you that he's an angel once you get to know him.'

Dad frowned. 'Do you plan to?'

We both walked into the living room. 'What?' I asked as Dad sat on the sofa and I sat on the beanbag opposite.

'Get to know him. Sherlock, I mean,' he explained.

What did I say? That the very idea had once crossed my mind? That would make Dad mad. It was obvious he didn't want me anywhere near Sherlock.

'Kodi?' I looked up at him and his gaze softened when he saw the hesitation resting in my eyes. 'Look, honey, I only ask because I don't want you to get hurt again.

'You've already been broken by a scumbag and I really don't want you to see you wounded again. You're my youngest daughter and it's my job to protect you. I let it slip once and that was my biggest mistake. I won't let it happen again.'

I smiled lightly. I stood and sat next to him. 'Dad… that wasn't your fault. Hell, _I_ didn't even see it coming. No one did. It was probably inevitable. And anyway, I'm better off without him.'

Dad let out a sigh, which turned into a smile. He took my hand. 'I know, Kodes. It's just…' He sighed again.

My phone rang.

I looked at the caller ID, puzzled. 'It's John,' I announced.

John never called. It was always text. He said that he was used to texting now because he always texted Sherlock.

'John,' I greeted.

'Kodi, I've been an idiot,' he declared.

I frowned. That wasn't good. 'What have you done, John?'

'I meant to text you to ask whether you thought Molly would like her ring.'

'But you said that she told you she liked it when you were out?'

'Yeah, I was just going to double check. But that's not the point.'

I sighed, exasperated. 'OK, what's your point?'

'I texted Molly by mistake.'

'Fuck…' I mused.

'Exactly. And now she thinks I've got another girlfriend and that I don't love her. I tried calling her but she won't pick up.'

'You, John Watson, are an official idiot,' I told him, teasingly.

'Yeah, yeah, don't need to rub it in, Kodi,' he sighed.

'OK, OK, sorry. What do want me to do?'

'Text her. Call her. Do whatever you can to get her to realise I love her more than anything.' He sighed again.

'OK. Will do,' I said. The phone was already halfway away from my ear.

'Alright, sis. And Kodi?'

'Yes, John?'

'Thank you. Seriously. You're a life saver.'

I smiled. 'Thank me when Molly knows you love her, K?'

He laughed. 'Fine. Catch you later.'

'Bye,' I said before the line was cut.

'What has he done now?' Dad asked, smiling.

'He's gone and hinted to Hooper that he has another girlfriend.' I shook my head at my brother's stupidity.

'How's he done that?'

'He's going to propose to Molly, and he's bought this ring that he knows she likes. It's really pretty and all. Anyway, he meant to ask me whether or not I thought she'd like it, just to 'double check' but he texted her instead of me.'

Dad smiled. 'Son, you are an idiot.'

My phone pinged. Molly.

 **Has John ever told you about another girlfriend? Another girlfriend that's not me? - MH**

I smiled. I decided I'd have a little fun before I broke the news.

 **No. Why? - KW**

 **He asked me 'do you think she'll like the ring I bought for her?' - MH**

 **He did, yes. I remember now. - KW**

 **WHO? I might have to kill her, or John, depending on my mood. - MH**

' **Nah, this was before you two were an item. And this was a guy. - KW**

 **He's going out with his ex-boyfriend again? - MH**

 **No. He and Jack are over. It's been over between them for two years. And I highly doubt they'd want to get back together again. - KW**

 **THEN WHO'S SHE? - MH**

I smiled again. At the rate Molly's anger was fuelling, if John did have another girlfriend, Molly most probably _would_ kill her.

 **I don't know. But I do know one thing. - KW**

 **What? - MH**

 **John loves you, Moll. He really does. He loves you with all his heart. - KW**

 **I don't know, Kodes… - MH**

 **Believe me, Molly Hooper. My brother loves you more than anything. You're very lucky to have him. A very lucky girl indeed. - KW**

 **If you say so, Kodi Watson. - MH**

'Well, Miss Watson?' Dad asked.

'Molly's kinda angry. But I told her that John loves her. Because he does,' I replied.

Dad laughed. 'Of course he does. My son's not one to lie and be disloyal.'

'I kn-'

Another text. This one from Sherlock.

 **Would you mind talking to your brother? He's been an idiot and told Molly Hooper about his plans of engagement and now she thinks he has another girlfriend. I have tried talking to him but he won't listen to me. This might be very un-Sherlock-like, but I am worried about him. John is not normally like this. Please talk to him. I want my best friend back. - SH**

My face stretched into a grin. 'Aww,' I whispered.

'What?' Dad said, raising his eyebrow.

I showed him the text. Dad's face changed from angry to soft by the time he got to the bottom of the text. 'OK,' he said. 'I'm not really fond of this Sherlock Holmes guy but, I have to admit, that is sweet.'

 **I know. And I've talked to him. I've promised him that I'd talk to Molly and tell her he loved her. I've done my bit. Now it's up to them to work it out between them. - KW**

Then my phone rang once again. I sighed, rolling my eyes. This time it was Tara.

I didn't really want to answer but I knew we'd have to talk to one another _some_ time. And it was better sooner than later. I needed her. 'Hello? Tara?'

'Hey, Kodi,' she said, rather sheepishly. 'You OK?'

'I'm fine. Thank you. You?'

'Yeah, I'm not too bad.'

'Is… there anything you need?'

'I just… I just wanted to…'

I was faintly aware of Dad telling me he needed to speak to Mum and then getting up and leaving.

'Yes, Tara?'

'I just… OK, I'm not going to beat around the bush. I'm sorry. For, you know, being harsh on you today. I just, I was annoyed and then you called and… yeah. Sorry.'

'It's OK,' I said, smiling madly. My best friend and I were working it out already. 'May I ask why you were annoyed?'

'Mum asked me why you and I had a… 'little tumble down the broken friends hole the other day' as she calls it, you know, after Sherlock said… you know what he said. And then I lied. I said how you were really ill and I got on your nerves and you swore at me and you told me to leave-'

'Gee, thanks, T!' I replied.

' _But_ you know my mum. She can see right through my lies because she's so skilled at this-'

' _Or_ ,' I interrupted. 'You're just not very good at lying.'

She laughed sheepishly. 'OK, OK, you have a fair point. Anyway. Let's get serious. She said how you would never swear at me because I was your best friend. Then she told me to sit down and tell her exactly what happened.'

'Tara, did you happen to tell your mother about Sherlock and what _exactly_ he said to me?'

'No, no, I left the exact details out. Anyway, I told her, and then apparently it's my fault for not looking after you properly.'

I frowned. 'How?' I asked incredulously.

'I don't know. But I got to go. See you later maybe and work this all out, have a proper apology?'

'Brilliant. I'll text you the details later, OK?'

'Perfect. Bye!'

After we hung up, I was aware of Harry muttering curse words. I rolled my eyes. Harry only swore when she was drunk or on the verge of being so. I quickly got up off the sofa and walked into the hallway to see Harry struggling to do the buttons up on her jacket.

'Here, Harry,' I said, walking up to her. 'Let me help you.'

I reached out to take her buttons but she swatted my hand away. 'Gerroff!' she slurred. 'I don't need no help!'

I sighed. She'd only just gone and got herself properly drunk again. 'Look, Harry, where do you want to go?' I spoke slowly, as if talking to a child.

She frowned. 'See… Clara…' she mumbled, before she went limp and dropped to the floor.

'Harry!' I yelled.

'M'fine,' she muttered as she slowly regained consciousness and opened her eyes.

'No. You're not,' I told her firmly. 'Mum! Dad!' I called, trying to haul her up myself. 'We're going to put you to bed and I'll see if I can get a hold of Clara.'

At that point, Mum and Dad came running. 'Oh, Harry!' Mum scolded, and she and Dad ran to help me pull Harry up.

We held her upright and guided her up the stairs. Mum and Dad tucked her into her bed while I took her phone and dialled Clara's number.

 _You have reached Clara Dillon's voicemail service. Please leave a message after the tone. I will try to get back to you as soon as possible. *beep*_

'Hi, Clara. This is Kodi, Harry's sister,' I said, frustrated that the one time I tried to get through to her, she was busy. 'Um, Harry wanted to come and see you but she's got drunk. I promised I'd try to ask you to come and see her. She's gone to sleep now. Ring her number when you get this. Bye.'

I cut the call and looked into Harry's room. She was wide awake, staring at me intently. I walked into the darkened room, smiling.

'Harry,' I said. 'Try to sleep. You'll feel better after a few hours of sleep.'

She reached out and took my wrist. 'Kodi, listen,' she whispered.

I knelt beside her. 'What is it?' I whispered back, squeezing her hand.

'I'm… sorry.'

I raised an eyebrow. 'What for?'

'For being this way. For being unable to let go of my addiction. For being such a terrible big sister to you. I think you'd have been better off being born first.'

I sighed. 'Harry…' I trailed off.

She shook her head, then immediately winced. She grimaced as she slowly sat up. 'No, Kodi. Please understand. Even though I hardly show it… I…'

Seriously, I was starting to tear up. 'I… love… I love you. I love you so much and I'm so glad you're here for me.'

'She threw her arms around me in a hug, and I had no choice to smile. 'I love you, too, big sister. I love you.' I placed my arms around her shoulders.

Then the tears fell. From my eyes as well as hers. This was the first time we had felt so close in years. The first time when we had told each other we loved each other since we were both teenagers. And our early teen years felt like eons ago, even though I was thirteen only fourteen years before.

Harry started drinking when she was sixteen and I was fourteen. Thirteen years. Thirteen years since our sistership first started cracking. Thirteen years of a messed up bond.

But now, slowly but surely, everything was starting to come together. Finally, the stiches of our quilt were being tightened.

Now I just had to do the same thing with Harry and John.

* * *

 **So. Chapter four is over. Sorry for it being mostly a text/phone conversation driven chapter. But thank you for all the reviews I received. Even though it wasn't five like I had asked, it was something. So thank you. Please review this chapter as well.**


	5. Persistance and Bold Moves

I sat in Tara's room, on her bed, thinking. I had gone over for our proposed apology. That was now over and done with and now I was supposed to be helping her with her photograph rearranging for her nursery job, but I obviously had other things on my mind.

Harry.

Or more specifically, yesterday afternoon with Harry. Where I'd felt as if we were running over that first hurdle. She'd told me she loved me; something she hadn't done since… years ago. It had been years since she'd confessed something like that to me.

It had made me cry. I had cried happy tears. All I could think was: _finally. Finally, I'm getting what I'm dreaming of._

And I knew that it was such a tiny little step, but it was still a step in the right direction. The best direction. And that was all I could hope for.

'Alright, Kodes,' Tara said, breaking me off from my thoughts. 'What's going on with you? You've been so out of it today.'

She reached for another of her photos and the glue stick. She opened the stick and smeared the back of the photo. I watched her as she stuck the photo down on the page of her book. 'I'm just… thinking. That's all.'

I picked up the black permanent marker. I pulled off the lid and positioned the pen on the inside of my left wrist. 'Thinking about what?' Tara replied.

I started drawing two hearts entwined with the pen as I thought about how to word my answer. Unfortunately, Tara took my silence to mean that I was uncomfortable in some way. 'Kodi? What happened?' she asked me softly, forgetting about her photo album briefly.

I smiled to let her know that I was fine. 'Nothing, I'm just thinking about Harry.'

'She OK?' The soft tone was still evident in Tara's voice.

'Harry's fine. It's just… she got drunk yesterday.' I saw Tara's face melt into a frown. She didn't try to ask questions. 'So then Mum and Dad put her to bed. And when I went to check on her, she told me that she loved me.'

Tara gasped. 'You mean as in…'

I shook my head, smiling as I ridiculed the idea. 'No, stupid. I mean in a sisterly way. She's got Clara for the other kind of love.' I rolled my eyes.

Tara gave a sheepish laugh. 'Yeah, that would be just hella incestuous. Not to mention gross.'

'I know. But what I guess I'm really trying to say is that… I'm glad she did. I'm glad that we stepped over the first hurdle together.'

'But you say she was drunk?' Tara asked as she continued sticking, annotating and writing.

'Yeah. She got annoyed for some reason that I don't know so she decided to drink off the pain.' I shrugged.

'Then do you think she meant it? She might have just been saying it. That she loves you, I mean.'

I shook my head. 'Tara Grahams, have you never heard the infamous quote?' I asked her, smiling.

She looked at me, confused. 'Infamous quote? No I haven't. Please, do enlighten me, Miss Watson.'

'Drunk words are sober thoughts? Ever heard of that one?'

Tara shook her head. 'Nope.'

I shook my head once again. 'T, what am I going to do with you?'

'I don't know, love me like the best friend I am?' she grinned.

I laughed. 'You wish, T!'

'Anyway, how's John? Last I heard from him was when he called to tell me what happened with Sherlock.'

I smirked, knowing what Tara's eventual reaction would be if I told her what was going on with my brother. 'He and his girlfriend are on the verge of splitting up, I think. He made the mistake of asking her what ring she'd like him to propose with and in the process driving her to think that he's cheating on her.'

Tara winced. 'How bad is the wound?'

'Real bad,' I replied. 'Molly won't talk to him and it's literally driving him crazy. He asked me talk to her and even in the texts she sent me I could see that she was proper angry.'

'Did she try to understand? I mean, if it was just a mistake then…'

'I know. I think it'd be best to give them both some time to calm down. And anyway, it's gotten so bad that even Sherlock's worried about him.'

Tara raised an eyebrow. 'What d'you mean?'

I fished in my dress pocket for my phone and pulled up Sherlock's text. I showed it to her and watched her face mould into a smile. 'Oh my god… that's so sweet.'

Her smile was contagious. 'Yeah, I know what you mean. And I think that both Sherlock and I want them to work it out. They've been going out for a year now and it'd be a shame for it all to come crashing down because of a tiny little mistake.'

'This is why I don't get attached,' Tara explained, putting the finishing touches to the photo album. 'All this heartbreak is so not worth it, I believe.'

I laughed. 'Are you _still_ the ever glorious single?' Tara grinned, nodding. 'When will you _learn_ , woman?' I teased her.

'Hey, don't look at me like that, you're still single,' she pointed out.

'Doesn't mean I'm not looking,' I countered. 'I still need to find the right person.' I shrugged.

Tara's expression suddenly turned serious. 'What?' I asked her.

'Don't get offended when I ask this because I don't mean any harm. Does it ever bother you that you're the only straight child in your family?' She paused and then added, 'And just ignore the fact that I called you a child. Just answer the question.'

'Not really, no. I don't really care – I mean, it doesn't really bother me – that my brother's bi and my sister's lesbian. It's their own choice, just like I choose to be straight and you choose to be single.'

'Don't you ever wish that they were normal?' Tara asked.

I frowned. 'Normal? Nothing is ever normal, T,' I answered.

'Being straight is normal,' she said.

'No, Tara. Being straight is just common. Not normal.'

'But-'

'Tara, just stop. You're crossing the line here.'

She reeled instantly. 'OK, I'm sorry. Really.'

I smiled sadly. 'It's OK. I guess that this is just a sensitive topic for me.'

As Tara opened her mouth to reply, my phone rang. I looked at the caller ID and was once again surprised as it was John.

I answered the call. 'Hello? John? Everything OK?'

I could hear the smile in his voice as he spoke. 'Molly actually spoke to me, Kodi! She actually spoke to me!' But something was off. Like John's happiness was strained, forced.

Even so, I laughed at his excitement. 'That's great John! What did she say?'

The smile was gone. 'She said that she really, _really_ wanted to forgive me but she's still not sure that it was just a mistake. I said to her that it _was_ a mistake, but she said that she needed a bit more time.' John sighed, and I knew he was shaking his head.

'So I take it you're not moving to hers any time soon, then?'

'Doesn't look like it, Kodes.' He sighed again. 'It does mean I can stay with my best friend a little while longer, though.'

I shook my head teasingly. 'How can that man be your best friend? He's just so…'

'Annoying?' John substituted, stifling a laugh.

'Yeah.'

'Well, I've lived with him for a year now. I've seen his soft side, his annoying side, his beautiful side…'

I grinned, knowing what he was getting at. 'What side would that be, John Watson?'

'His backside,' John said simply, chuckling straight afterwards.

'I knew it! You do know you have a girl-'

'Don't!' John said urgently. 'Kodi, just don't. I don't wanna talk about her. Please. Just distract me. Please.' He whispered the last word.

I clenched my fist. _Stupid_. 'OK, OK, I'm sorry. John, I'm sorry.'

My brother chuckled sadly. 'Always one for apologies, eh, Kodes?'

I smirked. 'I get it from my big bro, honey.'

' _Honey_? Seriously? I get that I'm seriously gorgeous but I am your brother, y'know.'

'I _know_ , Mr Watson, jeez. And it's perfectly fine to call your brother 'honey'. Harry used to say it to you all the time.'

'Harry's a year older than me.'

'And?' I retaliated.

' _And_ I find it weird when my younger sister calls me 'honey'. If anything I should be saying that to you.'

I raised my eyebrow. 'You find me weird?' Before he could answer, I smirked and said, 'Well then, goodbye,' and then hung up.

Tara was smiling at me, shaking her head. 'You hung up on him because he called you weird?' she asked incredulously.

'He'll ring me back – I know my brother well enough to know that he will,' I replied.

Then my phone bleeped.

 **You hung up on me because I called you weird? - JW**

Talk about freakish. I showed the text to Tara and she burst out laughing.

 **Yeah well. I was joking. But that doesn't mean I like it. ;) - KW**

John replied straight away.

 **Hey, can you do me a favour? Are you free? - JW**

 **Yeah, sure. What's up? - KW**

 **Can you go and talk to Molly? Like go and physically talk to her? - JW**

I sucked in a breath. 'He wants me to go and talk to his girlfriend, T. What do I say?'

Tara shrugged, leaning over to take a glimpse of my phone screen. 'Depends what he wants you say to her, to be honest.'

 **What do you do want me to tell her? - JW**

 **Tell her that it's all a massive mistake. Tell her that I love her. Tell her to come back to me. - JW**

I sighed, shaking my head sadly.

 **John, I can tell her that until I lose my voice but it's her own choice whether she wants to come back to you. Sorry, I wish I could magically make things alright again, but this is up to you two. But give it some time. I know that she loves you and I know that** _ **you**_ **love** _ **her**_ **. Everything will work out just fine if you give it time. - KW**

I just didn't know how horribly _wrong_ that last line of my text was.

I could just imagine John's heartbroken face as he read my text. But oh well. It couldn't be helped.

 **Oh, I forgot to say, I'll probably go and visit Mum and Dad this week, so yeah. See you in a week or so. - JW**

 **Is Sherlock coming with you? - KW**

Tara stood up off the bed, saying she was going to get drinks. 'What would you like?'

'Anything there is, apart from water,' I replied, waving her off.

 **No. Do you want him to? - JW**

Did I want Sherlock to come? After everything? Finally I had my answer.

 **Tell him he can come if he wants to. - KW**

Tara came back with two cans of Diet Coke. 'Here you are,' she said, handing me a can before she set herself up on the bed.

'I told John that he can bring Sherlock along to ours if he wants to,' I said vaguely.

'You did what?' Tara replied, her voice disbelieving and shocked all in one.

I failed to meet her eye as I spoke. 'I'm just curious, that's all,' I muttered.

I popped open my can, taking a sip before I finally gained the courage to look Tara in the eye. 'But Kodi…' she trailed off. Her eyes were sharp, staring at me, her gaze unfaltering. 'He hurt you, remember?'

'I'll never forget. But, like you said, this is the first step to getting better. Right?' I finished my sentence, grinning.

Tara threw her arms around me. 'Of course. And if you need me to help you, you know how to get hold of me.'

I hugged her back. 'Yeah. I do. And I'm really grateful.'

* * *

 **Hey, Chapter 5 is complete! Sorry for taking so long to update, school and life is just annoying.**

' **I just didn't know how horribly wrong that last line of my text was.' Take that as a piece of foreshadowing.**


	6. Friendships and Sibling Bonds

I looked out of our living room window absent mindedly. John and Sherlock had arrived a couple of hours ago. I had got myself in a state when I saw Sherlock (for some weird, unknown reason) and had texted Tara to ask her to come immediately.

Now, with only _six_ of us grown adults (Harry had stayed the night at Clara's, and wasn't back yet) in the house, the room was full of noise as if we had suddenly morphed into rowdy teenagers.

I had zoned out a while ago, not really in the mood for conversation, thinking it was a bad idea to let Sherlock come over so soon after our not so successful dinner. But hey. Here he was.

I continued to stare, my gaze not really picking up on anything particular. About a million thoughts were running through my head. Like, _doesn't mean I'm not looking. I still need to find the right person._

I meant what I said to Tara a few days ago. I am still looking. I do still want to find a person who can love me sincerely. A person who can love me for who I am.

Because of these thoughts, I was completely unaware of the hand on my shoulder. It was only when they said gently, 'Kodi?' that my brain decided to register what was going on.

I turned away from the window to see Sherlock standing before me in a white shirt and black suit and tie. His look was concerned, but when he realised I had caught him like that, his face took on a neutral expression.

'Are you alright?' he asked me, his hand lowering back to his side.

'Yes. Yes, I'm fine. Thank you.'

His mouth twisted up slightly into what I thought was a smile. He nodded, saying, 'Good.' Then he turned and walked away into the kitchen.

I turned back to the window to see someone walking up the drive. Someone who could be seen as unwelcome in this household right now.

I sprang to my feet, determined on getting to the door first.

I opened the door before Molly could ring the doorbell. She had her brown coat hugged across her body and her red tote bag over her shoulder. Her long brown hair was done up in a sort of funky side ponytail.

She put her finger to her lips in order to tell me to keep silent. I obliged, my confusion growing nonetheless, and backed up to let her enter the house.

She kicked off her pumps and slid herself out of her coat. She nodded towards the stairs, mouthing _can we go up?_

I nodded, and looked through to the kitchen and the window to see Mum, Dad, Sherlock, John and Tara sitting outside. Yes, _outside_ in the January air. They seemed to be chatting animatedly so I led Molly upstairs.

I opened the door to my room and offered her a seat on my bed.

I sat next to her, crossing my legs. 'So,' I said, my tone light in order to calm her nerves. 'What's going on with my favourite pathologist?'

She fisted her hands together, and put them in her lap. She refused to meet my eyes. 'Molly?'

'Kodi, I…' she trailed off, shaking her head.

'Take your time, Moll,' I whispered, smiling encouragingly.

'I messed up,' she mumbled. 'I messed up so bloody much!' she growled. She sucked in a breath, unfisting her hands only to run them through her hair.

'Hey, hey. Calm down. It's OK. Everything's alright,' I reassured her. 'It's all fine. Whatever you want to say, it's _OK_.'

She managed a small smile. 'How… how's John?' she asked in a small voice.

'John's fine,' I replied carefully. 'He's good.'

'Does… is he still mad at me?'

'Don't look like it, Moll.' I shook my head.

'Then why…' Molly stopped abruptly, like she had just thought of something new.

'Why what?' I asked slowly.

'Why won't he talk to me?' she whispered. She looked on the verge of tears.

I sighed. 'Aww. Come here,' I muttered, holding my arms out. She gratefully fell into a hug. I held her silently as I let her cry.

Her tears fell without a sound, though occasionally, she would take in a huge breath of air. 'It's OK, Molly,' I whispered.

My words did nothing to soothe her. She continued to sob. 'I… I don't know why… why I didn't listen to him!' she wailed in between tears. 'Now… he won't… he won't want to be with me!'

I had a slight feeling she was berating herself for this.

'Hey, hey… It's alright. It's not your fault. Molly, it wasn't _just_ you.'

She looked at me like she very much doubted my statement. 'It's my brother's fault for being a dick and sending the text to the wrong person in the first place.'

Molly stopped, and thought about what I said. Finally, she wiped her eyes with her jumper sleeve. 'I guess… I guess you're right.'

I beamed. 'I knew you'd see reason in that brain of yours somewhere!'

She laughed sheepishly. 'You must think I'm a right weirdo! Crying about something that must seem so trivial to you.'

I smiled, shaking my head. 'Nah, not at all. I've shed my fair share of tears on the subject, anyway. Besides, it's only Sherlock who thinks of this stuff as trivial.'

Molly grinned. 'That's quite true.'

My phone beeped.

 **Where even are you?! You, like, disappeared! - JW**

I exhaled and smiled. 'John's looking for me. I better go downstairs. You wanna stay, or…' I looked at Molly patiently.

Molly pondered. 'Can… can you send him up? I'd like to speak to him.'

I got up off the bed. 'Sure thing. That way you can pick up more of his foul vocab.' I smirked.

Molly raised an eyebrow. 'What do you mean?'

'I messed up so bloody much! Ring any bells?'

'Haha, whoops,' she muttered. 'Sorry.'

'Nah, you're fine.' I waved a hand in dismissal. 'I was just kidding. If anything, it should be my brother doing the apologies.'

With that, I opened the door and went downstairs. Everyone was back inside now. Sherlock and John took the sofa on the far end of the room, Dad took the arm chair and Tara and Mum took the remaining sofa.

'You took your time,' Dad stated as I entered. 'Where've you been?'

'Just doing stuff.' I shrugged. I looked at John. 'John, can you go up to my room, please?'

'Why?' He raised an eyebrow, not budging.

'Because I asked you to. You'll thank me for it later.'

He got up, giving me the strangest look. When he was out of the room, I mouthed, _Molly_. Mutters of understanding came from the rest of them. I looked around the room, since I was still standing in the doorway, and found that the only spare seat was next to Sherlock. I rolled my eyes and made my way across the room. I sat, trying to keep the biggest distance possible between us. No one noticed my move.

The last thing I heard before I lost myself in my thoughts was Mum and Dad talking about getting lunch started.

As I sat, I thought – quite randomly, as I do not know where the thought came from – about what it would be like for me to shift closer to Sherlock and take his hand. What it would be like for him to put his arm round my shoulders and for me to rest my head on his. What it would be like for him to tilt my face up for a kiss.

Suddenly, interrupting my not so innocent (but totally awesome) thoughts, a phone bleeped. _My_ phone.

 **You look uncomfortable. Want to swap seats? - T**

I looked up at Tara, who was staring at me worriedly. I shook my head, reassuring her that I was, indeed, fine. Her frown melted into a cheeky expression. She winked knowingly and I gave her a withering look.

She sniggered and mouthed _whatever you say_. I shook my head once again.

Suddenly, we heard Molly yell from up in my room: 'So it wasn't a mistake, then, was it?!'

All three of us winced (yes, even Sherlock) because it was so unexpected. I glanced at Tara and Sherlock, the latter of whom shrugged. Even the great Sherlock Holmes had no clue what was going on.

And then, 'Of course it was! Do you think I have it in myself to cheat?!' my brother shouted back.

'I thought you didn't but I was obviously wrong, wasn't I?!'

'Molly, you weren't wrong. I promise you I can make this up to you.' John's voice softened considerably.

'Don't touch me! I don't want your filthy hands anywhere near me!'

Tara, Sherlock and I sat stiff, listening. Even Mum and Dad had left the kitchen and were in the hallway, hanging on to John and Molly's every word.

'Well, then,' John declared firmly. 'If that's the case, you can leave.' I sucked in a breath. Things weren't going to end well.

'I'll be glad to!'

The next thing we knew, Molly was thundering down the stairs, her hair bouncing vigorously. She snatched her coat off of the hook, slipped her feet into her shoes and left the house, slamming the door behind her.

I cringed and then stood up. I looked back at Sherlock and mouthed, _follow her_. He nodded, standing up.

'I'll see to Molly. You two talk to John.' He left the room and stood in the hallway, getting dressed to go outside.

I looked to Tara. 'You go,' she said. 'I doubt John wants to see anyone other than his sister right now.'

I raised an eyebrow. 'Are you just going to sit here then?'

'No, I'll see if I can help your parents with lunch.'

Then she too stood and left the living room. I shrugged and made my way up the stairs.

My bedroom door was half open and I could see John sitting on the floor with his back against the wall. His eyes were closed. I sighed as I entered the room and closed the door behind me.

I knelt beside him, not making a sound. John could talk to me when he was ready.

I still couldn't bring myself to talk when tears slipped from John's closed eyes. I held my breath and waited. And waited. Even though my impatience was mounting, I knew I couldn't speak. John had to speak to me by himself. When he knew that he was composed fully. Which I knew, by the state of him, wouldn't be soon.

Eventually, after around fifteen minutes of silence, John took my hand, threading his fingers through mine. I shifted into a more comfortable position, sitting cross-legged beside him.

'Talk to me when you're ready, John,' I muttered, not breaking the contact between our hands.

He opened his eyes and wiped his tear stains way with his free hand. 'Oh, Kodes…' he sighed, turning his face away.

'Hey, it's OK. You don't have to say anything yet,' I replied gently. 'Calm yourself down first.'

'What have I done?' John looked at me, his eyes full of pain and self-hatred.

'You've made a mistake, that's all,' I whispered lightly. 'Give her a little bit of time.'

I didn't know how much longer I would be able to say the same thing over and over again.

'I've given her so much time! I thought she would have understood by now…'

 _So did I, John. So did I._

'I know, JJ,' I breathed, calling him by the nickname Harry and I made up for him years ago. 'I know.

'But I know you. The both of you. And I know that you can get through this little mishap given just the right amount of time.'

'How much time is the right amount of time?' John looked at me expectantly.

'John, I can't tell you that. Only you will know. You and Molly.'

John managed a weak smile. 'I love you, Kodi,' he whispered, giving me a hug.

I smiled as I hugged him back. 'I love you, too.'

* * *

 **Hello all. Now, as you might have noticed, I have changed the genre of the story to Romance/Tragedy. Let me tell you now, there** _ **will**_ **be Tragedy. Be prepared.**

 **Hope you enjoyed the chapter, leave me a review in the box below! Goodbye and farewell.**


	7. Responsibilities and Final Decisions

**Hey guys! Guess what? I'm on Christmas break now so I have two weeks to get as many chapters/one-shots out to you as I can! Yay! Anyway, Chapter 7…**

* * *

John suddenly went stiff in my arms. I released my grip on him slightly, pushing him away to look at him. 'Hey, what is it?' I asked.

He sighed and broke the contact between us completely. He put his head in his hands, sighing. 'I just… I don't… how do I say that to Molly and get her to believe it?'

'John,' I queried. He looked at me questioningly. 'Remember when you and Molly went out the first time and Ashleigh Evanson came along?'

My brother and Molly had known each other since secondary school. They were on and off for years before deciding to finally strengthen the relationship last February.

'Don't remind me…' John groaned.

'No, wait, listen,' I instructed. 'Remember when Ashleigh purposefully tried to get in your way by flirting with you?'

John shook his head. 'I didn't flirt back!' he protested.

I gave him a withering look. 'Yes you did.' He looked like he'd been betrayed. 'Only a little,' I rectified. 'But remember how Molly stepped up and got her away from you? Remember that even though you played around a bit with Ashleigh, Molly never lost faith in you? She kept her belief in you. She knew you loved her and that some pathetic little slag wouldn't be enough to drag you away.'

'What's that got to do with… with _now_?'

'Like before, this is just a little bump in your story of a perfect romance. Once you and Molly get back onto the right page, everything will resume smoothly.'

John looked away. 'Don't… don't get annoyed with me when I ask this, OK?'

I smiled. 'Promise.'

'How… how long till we're on the same page?'

'You'll see when the time is right, John.'

'Yeah…' John sighed.

'Hey,' I said, putting my hand on his shoulder. 'Believe in her, JJ. She'll come back to you.'

'I hope- Oh _shit_.'

'What?' I raised an eyebrow.

'Her birthday's next Sunday. And I have no present for her.'

'You're working at the clinic for the whole of next week, right?'

'Yes,' John sighed, shaking his head once again.

'Well then,' I announced, pushing myself onto my feet. 'Looks like we've got some shopping to do.'

John looked at me, puzzled. 'What, now?'

'We have nothing better to do so I don't see why not.' I held out my hand, waiting for him to take it and pull himself up.

'But what if we bump into Molly – or Twatface, for that matter?' he queried.

I smirked, six months later and Liam's nickname was still 'Twatface'.

'I didn't go out with Twatface for a year to end up not learning anything about him,' I grinned. I checked my watch. One thirty. 'He'll be out in the Foxy Red and won't be out of there until three. And until he's dead drunk.'

John slipped his hand into mine and pulled himself upright. 'You know, I think that's the first time in six months that you talked about Telling calmly – let alone with a grin on your face. I'm proud of you, sis.' He beamed and wrapped me in a hug.

'I have your best mate to thank for that one, to be honest,' I said, returning the hug.

'Should I tell him that?' John smirked.

I shrugged. I went round John to open my wardrobe. 'If you really have to. I mean, if it's _really_ necessary, then by all means, go ahead.'

I pulled out my navy hoodie and pulled it over my head, covering my white t-shirt.

'Seriously, you wouldn't mind?'

'No,' I replied bluntly. I pulled my hairband out of my hair and undid my plait. I ran my fingers through my hair several times before tying it back up into a high ponytail.

'Sure? You were pretty mad with Sherlock about it.'

I took a deep breath to steady myself for what I was about to admit. 'I'm over Liam. I promise you.'

'And now, after Liam Telling, there will be Sherlock Holmes.'

I snapped my head in John's direction. He had the smuggest look on his face as he leaned back against the closed door, arms folded across his chest, one foot crossed over the other.

'No,' I declared. 'No, there _won't_ be Sherlock Holmes. Ever. He's too brilliant for someone like me.'

'I know how you feel, Kodi,' John stated.

I looked away from him to rummage in my wardrobe again.

'But I also know that with you, you actually have a chance with the bloody git.'

'But John, I don't _want_ your flatmate.'

'You will do. Soon.'

'Shut up.' I pulled my black running trousers from the top of my clothes pile and shook them.

I looked at John, making a turning motion with my finger. John rolled his eyes but obliged.

'Why are you even getting changed anyway?' he said. 'We're only going shopping. Not out for a workout.'

'Yeah, but,' I replied, flinging the jeans I was just wearing onto my bed. 'I thought we could. It'd get your mind off of Molly, and reduce the stress.'

'Sounds like a plan, Kodes. Except I don't have any of my running clothes on me.'

I pulled up my trousers. 'Yes you do,' I responded. 'You can turn round now.'

'What do you mean?'

I went back into my wardrobe for a third time. 'You left something here when you moved out and we've never had the chance to give it back to you. Aha!'

'My black joggers! I was wondering where they went.'

I handed them to him and closed the wardrobe door. 'Now, just take off the jumper and the button up, borrow a pair of Dad's trainers and you're good to go.'

John glanced down at his chest. 'How do you know that there's anything under the button up?'

I smiled at him. 'You're my brother, John. You _always_ wear a button up over a t-shirt and a jumper over the button up. And _then_ you layer a jacket on top of that. Honestly, I don't know how you can _not_ boil under all of that clothing.'

John chuckled. 'Let's just say I'm a very cold person, shall we?'

'Sherlock rubbing off on you, is he?' I asked smugly as I opened the door.

John gave me a withering look. 'Absolutely _not_.'

'Whatever, John.' With that I walked out of the room and closed the door behind me. 'Two minutes!' I called.

My phone bleeped.

 **Molly is in tears. What do I do? - SH.**

I rolled my eyes. My usual response would be a sarcastic 'Comfort her?' but I knew that it was beyond Sherlock to do that.

 **Just soothe her. Where are you? - KW**

 **I found her at the local shopping centre. Elizabethan Fantasy? First floor, shop called Animal Bliss? - SH**

 **OK. Keep her there. I'll come and find you. Laters. - KW**

 _ **Without**_ **John. - SH**

I purposefully ignored that text. Who did he think I was? I wasn't that stupid.

But the thought of him hugging Molly gave a very weird sense of anger. I didn't know why: I had no right to be jealous.

John opened the door. He'd changed into his joggers and had his other clothes clutched in his hand.

'Come on. Let's grab Tara and get going.' I started going down the stairs.

'Tara's going?'

I stopped. 'Yeah,' I said slowly, turning back to face John. 'So?'

'Isn't it going to give everyone the wrong impression? Two girls and a guy?'

I rolled my eyes. 'No. Because you're _my_ brother and Tara is _my_ best friend. Now, get a move on.'

I didn't wait for a reply. I thundered down the stairs. 'Hey, T?!' I called as I reached the bottom.

John followed me down.

'Yeah?' Tara called. She hand an apron wrapped around her and a chopping knife in her hand.

'Get rid of all that. John and I are going for a run and you're coming with us,' I told her.

'Any particular reason why?' she asked.

'We need a birthday present for Molly and then we thought we'd go for a run,' I explained.

I opened the shoebox and knelt to reach my running shoes on the bottom shelf.

'I'm so up for that!' Tara looked apologetically at my parents. 'Sorry, guys. My excellence is needed elsewhere.'

I chuckled, shaking my head. 'Tara, just remember that you're a Grahams, not a Holmes.'

She gave me a crestfallen look. 'A girl can dream, Watson.'

'Hey,' John said, a grin glued to his face. I knew what was coming. 'Sherlock Holmes belongs to my sister, not to you.'

Heat rose in my neck and cheeks, turning them crimson, and Tara smirked.

I closed my eyes and groaned, deeply embarrassed.

* * *

I left John and Tara in a shop to go and find Sherlock and Molly.

I dialled Sherlock's number, putting the phone to my ear.

'Hello? Sherlock Holmes speaking.'

I grinned. 'It's only me, you git. Stop being so formal.'

'Ah. OK. Is everything alright?'

'Yeah. Where're you again?'

I heard him chuckle. 'The bench opposite Animal Bliss. She has calmed down somewhat but still refuses to go back home. I presume she thinks John will be there.'

'He won't. He's… busy. I'm coming. I'll talk to her.' I started walking, occasionally checking to see if I could spot John.

'Alright. Goodbye.'

'Bye.' I slipped my phone into my hoodie pocket.

I located the shop and the bench opposite it. I saw Sherlock sitting with one foot on the other knee, his arms slung across the back of the bench.

I approached them and my face fell when I saw Sherlock's arm around Molly's shoulders.

 _Clench fists. Unclench. Bite tongue. Stay calm._

'Hello, Kodi.'

'Hi,' I replied, flashing him a weak smile.

I sat the other side of Molly. 'Hey. You OK?'

'I guess so. I didn't mean to yell at him.' She sniffed.

'Hey, it's fine. All's good.'

'No. He's mad at me.' Molly sighed and closed her eyes.

I sighed, shaking my head. 'He'll come round soon enough.'

'I hope so,' she mumbled.

'I know so,' I replied, winking at Sherlock. He smirked, raising both eyebrows.

'You do?' she asked, looking me sincerely in the eye. 'How come?'

My gaze softened. 'You'll see.'

She managed to smile. 'You've really been the best friend I had wanted at a time like this.'

I beamed. 'Come here, Moll.' I held my arms out and she shifted herself into the hug.

I risked a glance at Sherlock and saw for the first time his genuine smile. I wasn't sure whether to smile back at him and risk losing the rare beautiful sight, but I did it anyway. But he smiled back at me, holding my gaze for quite a long while.

This was my first glimpse into the Sherlock Holmes who was hidden under the rough, cold and emotionless exterior; the Sherlock Holmes who did in fact have feelings but had chosen not to acknowledge them. To see him calm (after reading all of John's complaining texts) was, in fact, refreshing.

I pushed Molly way, gently, taking my eyes from Sherlock to the woman in front of me.

My phone rang. I looked at the caller ID, sighing. 'Guys, I need to go and take this. Catch you later.'

With that, I stood and walked away, answering the call.

'Hi. What up, T?'

'Your brother's freaking out. Talk to him, will you?' Tara explained, sounding rather exasperated.

'Kodi, help me. Now,' John demanded, a couple of seconds later.

'John, what's wrong?' I asked. My worry grew as I walked.

'I can't find a bloody thing for her!' he complained.

'OK, well, first things first, calm down. Nothing will get done if you keep getting yourself worked up.' I waited for him to take deep breaths, only speaking when I knew for sure that his nerves were low. 'Now. What have you looked at so far?'

He told me what he had considered (an extensive list, might I add) and finally wound up with, 'I don't know why this is taking so fucking _long_!'

'Maybe it's because you're thinking too much into this. Try going for something simpler.'

'Kodi, Molly doesn't deserve simple.'

'Hey, I know what you could get her!'

'What?'

I told him my idea, and could see he was considering it.

'You really think that could work?' he asked me, slightly more enthusiastically.

'Trust me, JJ. When she sees you at her door, on her birthday, with that present, all of this shit will have totally escaped her mind.'

'Maybe…'

'Hey. Just try it. Trust me, this'll work,' I told him.

He sighed. '… OK. Thanks, Kodes.'

'You're most welcome. Now, grab Tara and meet me at the entrance so we can go for our proposed run.'

He laughed, and it was music to my ears. 'Yes, alright. See you there.'

'Yep.'

We hung off and I was left smiling. Perhaps this was what John and Molly needed to come together?

I stopped thinking on the matter, got myself into my 'workout mindset' and started walking back to the exit.

* * *

 **Hey everyone! How'd you like this chapter, eh? Next chapter is Molly's birthday, and we finally get to see if John and Molly fix everything up once and for all. Also, we start focusing on Kodi/Sherlock in Chapter 10, so keep a look out for that too!**

 **Thanks everyone for reading! Please leave a review!**


	8. A Birthday and Some Fond Memories

Today was Molly's birthday. I'd phoned her at eleven o'clock in the morning to say happy birthday, and to tell her that Sherlock, John, our (my and John's) parents and I would be going around to her flat at two o'clock sharp with the presents that we had each got her.

My present to her was a pearl jewellery set, complete with earrings, a necklace and two bracelets. I just hoped she would like it. I had no idea what Sherlock had got her; apparently the rest of us would have to find out at the same time she did. Mum and Dad bought her the Polaroid camera she wanted so badly (their reasoning was that their future daughter-in-law deserved something extra special).

The idea was that either John or I (depending on if John's present worked according to plan) would take her out somewhere, and the rest of us would transform her flat into a party room. We'd go prepared with streamers, banners, balloons, everything.

We all knew it was a rather childish thing to do, but we wanted to give Molly some time to enjoy herself. With all the autopsies and dead bodies she saw every day, and the argument with John, we figured it was about time she let her mind run free and stopped stressing about things.

If all went well, John would start thinking about moving himself from 221b to Molly's flat. We'd all have to pitch in and help, as Molly's flat was only two bedroomed and all she had were two single beds. If they worked things out, I'd start browsing for a double bed for them both and Dad and John would move Molly's bed into the spare room. Then they'd assemble the double bed in the room.

Sherlock would have to start thinking about rearranging the things in his own flat, as he'd be the only one living there for the first few weeks. I had decided to rethink the choice of my living space, only if my future encounters with Sherlock turned out to be positive. Anything negative would only serve to push me back a step in my decision and I knew I wouldn't be getting anywhere like that.

I stood in front of my wardrobe at twelve thirty. Almost all of my dresses were strewn across the floor or my bed, with shoes lying everywhere. I had one hour and fifteen minutes before Mum, Dad and I would have to start our trek to Molly's place and _I was stressing_. Dad could take the car but he'd decided we would all have to walk, since Molly's place was only a fifteen minute walk from ours. No amount of pleading that my feet (in heels) wouldn't be able to walk that far had been able to sway him from his decision.

I had decided to wear something… not so revealing, this time around. (Normally, parties were times when I absolutely let myself go. Well. Almost absolutely.) But that was proving to be more difficult than I thought, since my only ankle length dress was backless and my dresses with sleeves and a full back only came up to the thigh.

I growled, flopping myself onto my bed. Someone knocked on my door. 'Come in!' I called irritably.

The door opened a crack and John poked his head in. 'You OK in here, sis?' he asked nonchalantly.

I glared at him. 'Why the fuck are you even in my room?'

John entered my room fully – decked out in some expensive suit, might I add – and closed the door. 'Whoa, Kodi, calm. Stay calm, OK?'

' _Why_?' I asked more forcefully. I didn't know why but this was really stressing me out.

'Sherlock claimed your thoughts were distracting.'

'My _thoughts_?' I repeated, my anger well and truly fuelled for some unknown reason. 'OK, what the hell, is this guy like a psychopath or something?!'

John pretended to think. 'More like or something. He says he's a high functioning sociopath.'

'John,' I hissed. 'In case you haven't noticed, I am in the middle of a fashion crisis. Now, I don't _care_ if Sherlock's a psychopath or a sociopath _or_ if he can read my thoughts. Just get the fuck out of here.'

'OK, OK, jeez. I'm leaving.' With an eye roll, John opened my door. 'But he can't _read_ your thoughts. He uses what's around him to _deduce_ them.'

I narrowed my eyes. 'John, I am _this_ close to throttling you, do you know that?'

'Alright, sorry. Just hurry up. People are getting restless.'

With any further comment, John left the room. I sighed in relief.

I looked around the room, cringing in disgust at the mess I'd created. 'Right,' I muttered to myself. 'This is just a party. It's not even a date so stop stressing, Kodi.'

I closed my eyes and extended my arm. I gripped the first dress that my fingers came in contact with and snatched it off the floor. I opened my eyes again and had to fight the urge really hard not to roll them. I had picked up my ankle length, _backless_ , purple dress.

But I decide to try it on a second time. And when I did, I groaned. It was too tight. I mean, it was comfortable enough but it hugged my curves too much. Too revealing. But I decided to leave it alone. No one would care. Right?

Wrong, it seemed, when I had finished my hair and make-up, and gone downstairs. Sherlock _legitimately_ couldn't keep his eyes off me. I am serious. I walked into the kitchen and that's when his eyes latched onto my figure. They didn't leave when I walked over to the fridge to get a drink. They didn't leave when I walked back around and sat at the table.

I tried to ignore it at first, but then when John and my parents caught on, I couldn't leave it any longer.

'You're staring,' I replied, sounding ridiculously uninterested, though in actual fact, my heart was doing somersaults at the idea of this gorgeous hunk finding me attractive enough to stare at for this long.

He shook his head. 'Oh… Oh, I'm… I'm sorry. I… I didn't realise,' he stammered. I smiled fondly as he ran a hand through his hair.

'Relax, Sherlock, I'm kidding,' I said gently. 'Actually, I find it quite nice.'

'Really?' he asked, suddenly sitting up straighter.

'Mm.' I nodded.

I finished off my drink and looked at my parents. 'We need to leave soon if we want to get to Molly's for two o'clock sharp.'

John cleared his throat. 'Kodi, are you sure this'll-'

I rolled my eyes. 'Work? Yes, I'm _sure_ this will work. Trust me, OK?'

He sighed. 'Fine, fine. But… can I have a moment alone with her before you all go in? Please?'

I looked at my parents and Sherlock. Mum and Dad smiled, Sherlock merely nodded. 'Yes, I guess so. We can wait around the corner.'

* * *

John had gone on to ring Molly's doorbell. I saw her parents' car parked in front of the flat and crossed my fingers.

John was on his knee, the ring box held open in front of him. I held my breath. I glanced over at Sherlock and my parents. Mum and Dad were as anxious as I was. I looked back at Molly's flat. The door was now open and I could hear John speaking.

'Molly, I know I've been a right shit bag recently. This fight between us wouldn't have happened if I was just a bit more careful. But now I'm asking if there's any possibility that you could put all of this in the past, forgive my stupidity and do me the honour of becoming my wife. Please?'

I bit my tongue, listening carefully. 'Oh John, yes. Yes, yes, _yes_.'

John slid the ring on her finger and stood. I exhaled, relieved. All was great. Everything was good.

'Can we go in now?' Sherlock asked, sounding annoyed.

'Yes, alright,' Mum said.

With her word, I turned the corner, Molly's present bag clutched in my hand. The door was open so I walked right in, calling, 'Moll?'

Molly walked into the hallway. 'Happy birthday, future sister-in-law!' I exclaimed.

Molly laughed and gave me a hug. 'Thanks, Kodi.' I gave her the present bag and looked at John, who was standing just behind his fiancée.

'Didn't I tell you, big brother? Didn't I tell you this would work?'

He chuckled and wrapped me in a hug. 'OK, OK. You were right, Kodes.'

'Congratulations, John,' I whispered.

I heard my parent's talking to Molly and her parents and I was just about to follow John into the living room when I heard my name.

I looked to see Sherlock standing in the doorway. He was in that purple shirt John mentioned when I first met him. 'Yes?' I replied.

'Does this mean that… John is leaving Baker Street?' he asked me quietly.

'Yeah, I guess so,' I said as I walked over to him.

'OK. That's all I need to know. You go on. I'll join you all in a moment.'

I raised an eyebrow. 'Are you sure?'

He nodded. 'Yes. Go.'

'… OK,' I said slowly, walking away.

'And Kodi?'

'Hmm?' I turned back around.

'You look absolutely beautiful today.'

I beamed. 'Thank you.'

I walked back into the living room and saw Molly in the midst of wrapping paper and boxes.

'Oh wow…' she whispered as she held my present in her hand. 'This is beautiful, Kodi! Thank you.'

I smiled softly as I sat next to Mum. 'I'm glad you like it.'

Sherlock came into the room just then. I glanced at him but he avoided my eyes. What was that about?

Molly opened Sherlock's present and held a book in her hand. She opened it and a grin lit up her face. 'Oh my god… you remember…' she breathed.

'Of course I remember. Some of my fondest memories happened that day.'

Molly smirked. 'Didn't know you'd be one to be sentimental.'

'I keep hold of some of my… better memories.'

Molly stood up from her chair and walked over to Sherlock. 'Thank you so much,' she whispered as she gave him a hug.

And there was the anger again. I didn't know what it was about Molly and Sherlock hugging each other that evoked this reaction in me.

'I didn't know you could draw, Sherlock,' John stated as he held the book in his hands. He turned it around for us all to see.

On the one page, there were drawings of both Sherlock and Molly together in full colour. They seemed to look younger than they were now. Three in all. One of him and Molly taking a selfie by a park, another of them having food at a restaurant and the last of them sitting at the foot of a tree.

'You don't know a lot of things about me, John,' Sherlock stated flatly. He'd leant against the doorframe after Molly sat back next to John and crossed one foot over the other.

'Was this before I knew you?' John asked again, turning the book for him to see. He flipped through the pages, evidently amazed.

'Yes, John. And _no_ , before you ask,' he said. 'This wasn't when you and Molly were dating. This was in 1997.'

John smiled, like he knew that Sherlock had thought ahead. 'Alright, alright.'

'August 15th, if I remember clearly,' Molly said.

'What was the occasion?' I asked lightly.

'Molly had a day off in university,' Sherlock started saying. 'And I think it was because she and John weren't talking for some reason or other that she decided to consult me. I myself was bored out of my mind and decided it wouldn't hurt to go and relax for a little while. Of course, I had a case the very next day so I was annoyed. And it gave her the impression that I didn't care.'

'You didn't, though,' Molly corrected.

'I did. Just not too openly.' Sherlock shrugged and my heart started leaping.

Sherlock was able to have fun. Sherlock was able to let himself go. And I liked that. I was moving forward slowly once again.

* * *

 **Hope you liked this chapter. In the next one, John is moving to Molly's place. This chapter took place on January 10** **th** **, 2015.**


	9. Moving House and Suspicious Behaviour

***SPOILERS FOR THE ABOMINABLE BRIDE!***

* * *

 **I'll help you pack up in your flat. - KW**

I lay on my bed, my head resting against the pillow propped up against the headboard. John and I were just making plans for Saturday, the day when the move happened.

The day when my big brother was one step closer to the best day of his life.

 **What, so you can gawp at Sherlock all day? ;) - JW**

I smiled sadly. That was only half the reason.

 **That and… I just want to spend some quality time with my big brother before he moves on and forgets me. That too much to ask? - KW**

 **Kodi… you know you'll still be my little sister, don't you? I won't ever forget you. You know that right? - JW**

I smiled a proper smile.

 **I do now. I love you, big bro. - KW**

 **I love you too, lil' sis. - JW**

It pained me to realise that none of this involved Harry. Harry stayed over at Clara's so much that I hardly ever saw her anymore. I hadn't even talked to her in just under a month.

 **I haven't seen Harry in ages. - KW**

I didn't know what John would say to that. They were far too distant from each other to really care. I wouldn't say they _hated_ each other, it was just that neither of them were as close with the other as I was with each of them.

 **Don't think she really cares, tbh. - JW**

I found myself frowning.

 **Cut her some slack, John. You know she's had hard times since… years ago, actually. - KW**

I could hear John sigh and his voice break in his next text.

 **Yeah, I know what you mean. It's just that… we were pretty much distant since we were teenagers. I never saw much of her. And then… she went and started drinking. And me being the naïve little kid that I was, I drank every word up from those drug lessons we had in school… and it never really went away. Not even now. So when I realised that those people in the pictures they showed us could be my older sister, I tried really hard to steer her away from that specific direction. It didn't work, and I got mad. So I resented her. I resented her for not listening to me. For not being the older sister she should have been. And then** _ **she**_ **resented** _ **me**_ **for continuing to bug her. And… we've never really been as close as you are with us for that reason. - JW**

Seconds later, another text pinged up.

 **Deep down, I probably still care for her. I probably love her as much as I love you, Mum and Dad. But on the surface… I can't bring myself to give a damn anymore. I can't bring up the feeling of love for my older sister. That's really bad, I know. - JW**

I figured we were gonna have to stop texting. I dialled his number, waiting.

'Don't you dare say that you don't give a damn,' I said, even before he could say hello.

He heaved a sigh. 'I know it's terrible that I feel like that… but I have a heart of stone when it comes to her.'

'What if she died? Would you be able to prevent yourself from breaking down at her funeral?' I asked sharply.

There was a long, heavy silence. I could tell John was thinking about what I said. 'John?' My voice had softened; I started to feel bad.

'Now that you mention it like that… I doubt it. I doubt I could stop myself having a mental breakdown. Harry did have some good points, actually.'

I smiled. 'Yeah, like the time you won the Best Mathematician Award in primary school and Harry was the one who took you out for McDonalds afterwards. Remember that one?'

John laughed. 'Yeah. She was only twelve then, I think.'

'And then I lashed out because I wasn't allowed to go with you.'

'Yeah, because you weren't the best mathematician, were you?'

'It was the school's fault. They axed the award before I was in year six. I never got the chance to be nominated. I was pretty good at maths though.'

And just like that, we were spending hours just talking about the good things that happened in our childhood.

It was only when John said that Sherlock was complaining about our long conversation that we finally ended the call.

* * *

'Where'd you want your shirts to go?' I asked John, as I took out his multiple shirts from his wardrobe.

John looked up from looking under his bed. 'Fold them _nicely_ into that blue suitcase I have stashed in Sherlock's room.' He resumed rummaging under the bed.

'Why's it in Sherlock's room?' I asked as I started folding the shirts up.

'Technically, it's Sherlock's but I used it when Molly and I went over to France that other year. He said I was free to use it whenever I needed to, _if_ I promised to keep it in his room.'

I laughed. 'OK… That's a little weird if you ask me, but whatever floats his boat.'

'I'll go get it after I've finished here.'

I abandoned the shirts as I walk round in front of John.

'Jeez, do you never use the vacuum cleaner under your bed?' There was so much fluff and dust that he'd brushed out.

'Sherlock likes the dust to build up so he can analyse it. Believe me, I tried to talk him out of it, or at least let me clean my own room but no.'

In that split second, I started making a list in my head.

 _Mental List for 221b Baker Street (specifically if I move in)._

 _1) Huge clean up_

 _2) New rules_

I went back to folding John's shirts. After I'd finished, I said, 'I'll go find that suitcase.'

'OK,' John replied.

I walked out of John's room and over to Sherlock's. His door was closed so I put my ear to the door listening. No sound coming from inside.

I knocked (just in case, you know?) and then opened the door. The room was empty. I searched quickly with my eyes but the suitcase was nowhere obvious. I couldn't meddle around in Sherlock's room without his permission so I decide to go and get him.

I saw him at the living room window, just staring.

'Sherlock?' I asked. He didn't reply.

I walked over to him. He didn't seem to register my presence. I softly put my hand on his shoulder. 'You OK?' I asked softly.

He suddenly shook his head and looked at me. 'What? Yes, I'm fine. Why do you ask?'

'You seemed really distant for a minute,' I explained.

'I was thinking,' he responded.

'About?' I asked, genuinely curious.

'Emelia Ricoletti.'

I frowned. 'Who's she?'

'A bride who committed suicide in 1895,' he said dismissively.

'Why're you thinking about it now?'

'She could lead us to Moriarty.'

'Really?'

'Yes.'

'How come?' I let my hand rest next to his on the windowsill.

'She blew her brains out in front of a crowd and then supposedly 'came back from the dead' to murder her husband, just like Moriarty. Almost.'

I scowled lightly. 'Jeez. And you're trying to solve her case?'

'Mm,' he replied, his eyes following back up into the street.

'Right.' I turned to leave, and then remembered why I was there in the first place. 'Oh, I nearly forgot. John said something about a blue suitcase, somewhere in your room?'

Sherlock smirked. 'You didn't want to pry in my room, did you?' he asked lightly.

I matched his smirk. 'Oh, no. That would have been extremely rude of me.'

'Come on. I'll show you.'

I followed Sherlock into his room. He closed the door and offered me a seat on his bed.

I watched him pull out a small stool from under his bed (surprisingly free of dust), put it by his wardrobe and stand on it. He reached atop the wardrobe and took a small bag between his fingers. Without looking back, he tossed it onto the bed behind him, merely missing me by millimetres.

'Don't touch anything,' he instructed.

'I wasn't planning on it,' I replied.

He flung most of the junk he store on top of the wardrobe on the floor, and finally, he pulled a blue suitcase from the very back. 'Here you go.'

'Took you long enough,' I smirked.

He laughed. 'Don't tell me you didn't like what you saw.'

I stopped. _Really?_ 'Oh, I liked it, alright,' I said, hoping my crimson wasn't showing through in my voice.

'Then I deduce you weren't disappointed by the fact that I have so many things on top of my wardrobe.' He propped the case up and took a seat on the bed by the pillow.

I burst into laughter at that point. 'OK, OK,' I said once the laughter wore off. 'Fine, you have me cornered.'

'I thought so,' he chuckled. 'Now, I believe you have a brother waiting in his room for you to pack his shirts up.'

'Oh yeah.' I stood up from the bed. I walked over to the door after holding the handle of the suitcase and looked back. 'See you later, Sherlock.'

He simply smiled.

I walked back into John's room and when he saw the suitcase behind me, he gave me a look of disbelief. 'I don't know how you do it, Kodi,' he muttered.

I raised an eyebrow, confused. 'Do what?'

'Lighten Sherlock's mood enough to make him joke around with you. I've never been able to do that.'

'I don't know,' I shrugged, heaving the suitcase onto the bed. 'I thought he was like that with you as well since you're his closest friend and all.'

John shook his head, stifling a laugh. 'Never. Well, on a minimalist level, yes.'

'Oh.' I stopped filling the suitcase while I thought. 'John?'

'Hmm?' He looked at me quizzically.

'Do you ever… do you ever get the feeling like something life changing is gonna happen to you soon?' I asked.

'Well, yeah, since Molly and I are going to get married soon.'

'Yeah, I guess so.' I shook my head.

'Anything going on?' he asked, concerned.

'Just a bad feeling. Nothing to stress about.' My reply was calmer sounding than I felt.

'Sure?' he asked.

'Yeah.' I resumed putting in all the shirts.

'I'm here if you decide you need to stress about it,' he grinned.

I matched his smile. 'I'll hold you to your word,' I replied.

We finished packing all the things in John's room. All his clothes were put in suitcases. His bedroom was pretty much staying the same apart from that (and a few of his memoirs and souvenirs being packed away as well), as Sherlock would need a new flatmate soon and that flatmate would need a place to stay.

We both dragged the suitcase downstairs (John pulled the suitcase, I followed behind) and now we were sifting through the papers in his and Sherlock's filing cabinets, to see if there was anything of importance he had to take with him.

Suddenly John's phone rang and from the smile on his face, I knew it had to be Molly. He excused himself back up to his room and I was alone with Sherlock once again.

'So,' I said as I pulled open a bottom drawer. 'How _did_ Moriarty die?'

Sherlock looked up from the ring binder he was looking at. 'Oh, on the roof of Bart's. He shot himself through the mouth, just like Ricoletti.'

I rolled my eyes. 'Are you still thinking about that woman?' I asked.

'I _told_ you, Mrs Ricoletti's case could lead us back to why every screen in England showed Moriarty's face and him saying, 'did you miss me?'.' His voice conveyed a note of irritation.

'Oh. That. Yeah, I guess so.' I shrugged, returning my focus to the drawer that I held open.

'Kodi…?' Sherlock said suddenly, after around five more minutes of silence.

'Yeah?' I kept my attention trained on the papers in front of me.

'When… actually, never mind.' Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him run a slender hand through his black curls.

 _Why_ did witnessing that send a shiver through my spine?

'Sure?' I asked.

'Yes, yes. Please, do carry on with whatever it is you're doing.' He motioned around with his hand.

I looked back at the papers before John came back into the room.

'Hey guys,' he said, smiling like a maniac. He joined me on the floor and picked up an envelope.

'Nice convo?' I asked slyly.

'What?' John looked at me, giving me a weird look. 'Oh. Oh, yeah. Yeah, it was good.'

John opened the envelope slowly and his smile widened as he realised what it was.

'What is it?' I asked.

'The first ever letter Henry sent me. Before he had my number.' The grin was still there.

'How'd he have your address before he had your number?'

'I'm Sherlock Holmes' blogger,' he chuckled. 'Not hard to deduce where I live, is it?'

I laughed. 'No, I guess not. What did he say?'

'Private, see? I know you're my sister and all, Kodes… but some things are only meant for one pair of eyes.'

'OK. Whatever you say. You might wanna take it with you, though. Before I open it and have a read.'

'Oh, I will, don't you worry.' My brother turned to Sherlock. 'You OK, there, Sherlock? You've been rather ominously quiet…'

The paper that Sherlock had been clutching at fell to the floor. 'Yes…' he replied slowly, standing up. 'I'm fine.'

'Where're you going?' John and I both asked at the same time after Sherlock reached the living room door.

'Just need to run an errand,' he responded absentmindedly as he reached for his coat and scarf.

The toned body disappeared as he slipped into the outer garments. _No…_ my mind groaned. I paid it no mind, concentrating as Sherlock descended the staircase.

When he had disappeared, I looked back at John. I gave him a look that said, _does Sherlock run errands?_

John looked at me as if I was mad. _No,_ he mouthed slowly, shaking his head.

I shrugged, continuing (after what seemed like the hundredth distraction) to sort through the documents in front of me.

But I couldn't fully focus. Sherlock didn't run errands.

Something was up.

* * *

 **Hey, everyone! How did you like this chappie, eh? I know I enjoyed writing it! I'm looking forward to writing the next chapter too, as it's… no, you know what? I'm going to shut up. You can all find out next time.**

 **I'd love it if you left a review, they're always welcome! Thank you for checking out my story, hope you enjoyed it! Bye!**


	10. A Sweet Discovery and Final Decisions

I picked up my phone, while placing my spoon back into my cereal bowl.

John's name flashed up on the screen, indicating that my brother was calling. I answered the call without hesitation, resting my elbows on the table.

'Hey, John,' I greeted. 'Everything OK?'

He chuckled. 'Everything's fine, sis. Just fine.'

I smiled. 'Any reason for the laugh there?'

A pause. 'I think…'

The smile disappeared, being replaced by a frown. John's antics were about to come into play here. I knew it. 'Yes?'

'I think you're going to like what I'm about to send to you.'

'What are you going to send to me?' I raised an eyebrow in confusion.

'You'll see. Hang up a sec and I'll get it to you.'

'O… K…' I said slowly and uncertainly, not really putting the pieces together. 'Bye, I guess?'

'Catch you later, sis.'

The phone line went dead and I slowly took my phone from my ear, bemused. I shrugged and was about to resume eating my Tuesday morning breakfast when my phone buzzed.

John had sent me a recording, along with a message:

 **I suggest you're alone when listening to this. - JW**

My confusion continued to grow as I pushed my chair back. I placed my bowl into the sink, groaning internally as I caught sight of the washing up I'd have to do later. I walked up to my room, shutting the door. With slightly shaking hands, I pressed the _play_ button on the recording as I flopped onto my bed.

'Right,' I heard my brother sigh. 'We need to talk.'

'Do we?' I heard a distinct thud and assumed Sherlock was putting down what he had been holding.

'Yes. We do,' John replied.

'What about?' I could just about imagine Sherlock slumping into his chair, feeling defeated.

'You. And Kodi,' John stated firmly.

I gasped. _Me?_ What in the world did John need to talk to Sherlock about _me_ for?

'And what about us do you possibly need to talk about?' was Sherlock's reply. Ohhh, the way Sherlock said 'us' sent shivers through my spine.

'The fact that you've… oh, I don't know, _changed_ since you met her?' John's voice was mildly questioning, like he thought the answer was obvious.

'Changed? What on Earth are you talking about?' Sherlock sounded so confused. So was I, now I thought about it.

'You're so different. You're opening up. You're smiling around her. You're joking around her. You called her beautiful.'

And? Was that a bad thing?

Sherlock chuckled. 'You say that like it's a bad thing, John.'

'No, I'm just saying, you better fucking look after her.'

'Hold on, stop. You better fucking look after her? How can I when she doesn't even like me?' Sherlock protested.

How wrong could such an intelligent mind be? Of course I liked him. I might even say I-

John laughed. 'You, my dear friend, have an IQ of at least one fifty, categorising you as a genius, and yet you're telling me you're missing a few simple signs of love?'

'You know _love_ ,' (The word came out as if Sherlock was disgusted) 'isn't exactly one of my strong points, John.'

'I've seen the way you look at her-'

 _What?_

'- and I kind of have to disagree, Sherlock.'

A really long pause followed. I could sense that both Sherlock and John were really uncomfortable.

Finally, after what seemed like years, Sherlock replied. 'John,' he whispered. 'If I tell you something, you must _promise_ that it doesn't go past the walls of this room. Especially not to Kodi. OK?'

'Well…'

'Promise me, John. Please.' The please sounded so desperate that I was tempted to stop listening. My brother could be so wicked sometimes.

'Alright,' he said. 'I promise.'

'Well… If I had to change my ways for a woman, I'd have to hope that that woman was your sister.'

… Was he saying what I think he was saying?

'Really?' John replied, surprised.

'Mm. She's really one of a kind, she is.'

Oh god. I needed to breathe. Was Sherlock saying that he… _loved me_?

'And… I think… I think I… _love_ her.'

I paused the recording, trying to get my thoughts in order. Sherlock loved me. Sherlock loved me. _Sherlock loved me._

I didn't think he was capable of love. From what John had told me, I'd have said love was the last thing on Sherlock's mind.

'Seriously?' John replied.

'No, I'm obviously joking.' Sherlock said dryly. He paused and I literally came down from my high in two seconds flat. 'Of course I'm serious, John. Why wouldn't I be?'

And the high was back.

That was enough. That was all I needed to hear. Sherlock loved me and that was all that mattered to me right now.

* * *

 **Baker Street. Come at once if convenient. - SH**

I stared at the text in a dazed state. It was not something I had been expecting to receive on a Tuesday afternoon.

 **If inconvenient, come anyway. - SH**

I raised an eyebrow. Slowly standing up from my arm chair in the living room, I said to my parents, 'Guys, I'm going out for a bit. I'll be back in time for dinner.'

Dad looked at me, pausing the movie he and Mum were watching. 'Everything OK, Kodes?'

'Yeah, I think,' I replied.

'Let us know if there's a problem, love,' Mum cut in.

'Jeez, Mum, last I checked I was twenty seven, not seventeen.' I rolled my eyes.

'I know, honey. I just worry about you,' Mum replied.

I smiled, shaking my head. I walked up to her and bent down to kiss her cheek. 'Well, you don't need to worry about me anymore,' I told her, straightening up. 'Love you guys!' I said as I walked out of the living room.

* * *

I knocked on the door of 221b Baker Street, stepping back as I waited. The door opened a few seconds later and Mrs Hudson stood on the other side.

'Hello, dear,' she greeted with a smile.

'Hi, Mrs Hudson!' I replied eagerly. 'How are you?'

She stepped back to let me into the flat. 'Oh, I'm very well, thank you, dearie,' she said brightly. 'But I don't think I can say the same for our scientist upstairs,' she added in a whisper.

I frowned. 'Is he OK?' I asked, matching her quiet tone.

'I think he's feeling lonely since John left. Why don't you go and talk to him, hmm?'

'I will. Thank you.' I smiled at her and then started walking upstairs.

I opened the door to the flat. Sherlock was slouched on his chair. His legs were outstretched in front of him, his ankles crossed and a gun was in his hands as they limped over the armrests.

'Sherlock?' I asked tentatively. Why the hell did he have a gun?

His arm flew up and his finger pulled the trigger. I yelped, covering my ears and turning my face away. 'Bored!'

'What?' I said, looking at him abruptly.

'BORED!' he said as he fired another gunshot.

' _Excuse_ me?' My eyes widened.

' _BORED!'_ After another gunshot (and what I hoped would be the final one), his arm resumed its position as it hung over the armrest.

I chanced a glanced at the wall behind me. There on the purple patterned wallpaper, a yellow, spray-painted, smirking face stared directly at me. Embedded inside the circle were at least two dozen holes, all made by Sherlock's gun.

'Sherlock, how long have you been doing this?' I asked him.

'Since I realised I was bored,' he replied flatly.

I sighed. This wasn't going to be easy. I took pigeon steps towards him. 'Listen, Sherlock, you can't ruin Mrs Hudson's walls like this.' I knelt beside the chair.

'What else can I do?' he asked indignantly.

His arm rose once again, and in a flurry of panic, I took the ultimate risk. I put my hand over the muzzle, hoping against hope that Sherlock had seen my hand and was humane enough not to shoot.

Our hands stayed in that position for what felt like years and I really thought he was going to do it. I really thought he was heartless enough to shoot a hole through my hand.

But then I remembered his words to John: _I think I… love her._

If that was really the case, then he wouldn't do it. He wouldn't pull the trigger.

Finally, he lowered his arm, and I couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief.

Slowly, I took hold of the barrel, and with my other hand, pried Sherlock's fingers off the grip. I took the remaining three bullets out of the gun, closing my hand around them.

Suddenly, he muttered a word, so softly that it took me a couple of seconds to work out what he meant. 'Stay.'

'Stay?' I repeated.

'Yes, stay,' he clarified. 'Here.'

I hesitated. 'I-I guess I can stay for a couple of hours, yeah.' My heart pounded against my chest.

Sherlock shook his head viciously, sitting up in the chair. 'No. I mean _stay_. Here. Forever.'

'As in: move in with you?' I asked.

I heard him heave a sigh of annoyance. 'Yes.'

'Well…' I stood up, backing away from the chair, the barrel of the gun and the bullets still clutched in both my hands. 'I don't… I don't know if I can… I mean, John left three days ago…'

He sighed again, though this time I sensed a feeling of self-loathing behind it. 'I've frightened you,' he stated bluntly.

'What, no!' I protested instantly. 'No, you haven't, Sherlock. I'm just… overreacting.'

'So would you? Move in?' he asked hopefully.

'I don't…' _I_ sighed this time. 'I'll see. I'll talk to my parents tonight and I'll see what I can do.'

'But… from what I've observed, your parents have an obvious… _dislike_ towards me. You've even said so yourself.'

I smiled slightly. 'You _really_ haven't met my parents, Sherlock. I bet with a little persuading, they can be swayed from their… rigid mindset.'

I watched as he was obviously processing my words in that palace in his head (John had called it a Mind Palace, I believe) and then as his straight face gave way to a smirk.

'So how much should we say? Fifty?'

It took me a minute to get what he was hinting at.

'Yeah,' I replied, grinning. 'We'll settle for fifty.'

'By tomorrow morning, I could become fifty pounds richer,' he mused more to himself.

I smirked. 'Try saying that the other way round, yeah?'

'No,' he said almost instantly. 'So you said you'd stay for a couple of hours, then.'

I shook my head fondly. 'Maybe, if you promise not to shoot the flat down.'

He dismissed my words with a wave of his hand. 'You can get rid of them. I won't be needing them anymore. I doubt I'll be bored for a while now.'

I gave him a weird look, keeping myself silent, and then turned away into the kitchen. I flipped the lid of the bin and dropped the gun and bullets into it.

When I went back into the living room, Sherlock had sat forward in the chair, with his elbows resting on his knees and his hands clasped together.

'What are you thinking?' I said as I settled myself into John's chair.

'What? Nothing, don't worry.' He sat back up again, shaking his head.

'Emelia Ricoletti?' I suggested.

'No… no. Not her,' he replied slowly.

'What then?' I asked, growing concerned. 'Sherlock?'

'Do you remember on Saturday when I had that letter in my hands and I suddenly got up and left?'

I nodded. 'Sure.'

'That letter… that was from my grandad. It was…' He took in a breath. 'It was the last letter he sent me before Alzheimer's took him away.' Sherlock sighed. 'I just… I didn't want you and John to see me broken like that so I fled.'

'Where'd you go?'

'To his grave. I stayed there for hours.'

'Oh, Sherlock… I'm so sorry.'

'No, don't be. It wasn't anything to do with you.'

'I know…'

'I just… Everything I loved, every _one_ I loved, either left without an explanation, or if there was an explanation, it would be a rather grim one.' He grimaced. 'So I decided to stop loving.'

He stood up. 'I'm going into my bedroom for a bit.' He walked to the doorway and then turned back. 'I would like it if you stayed to greet me when I get back.'

'Sure. That's fine.'

He gave me a half-smile, and then disappeared.

 _Everything I loved, every_ one _I loved, either left without an explanation, or if there was an explanation, it would be a rather grim one_. _So I decided to stop loving._

That explained why Sherlock was so hostile, so heartless. He'd had his heart broken one too many times… and he decided to pay the consequences.

That made him a hero. A tragic hero. And there wasn't anyone who'd fit that role better than Sherlock Holmes himself.

* * *

 **Hi everyone. Yes, I know I last updated in January. I'm sorry. I have two fics to be working on, this one and another one over on FictionPress.**

 **Plus the fact that my exams are creeping closer and closer to me every single second so balancing revision, writing, TV and my social life is getting tougher and tougher.**

 **I have to drop at least one of them each day. Most days it's TV and writing, but I guessed I kept you waiting long enough so today my social life was the one to go.**

 **I hope you've enjoyed this chapter, and that I haven't lost all my old readers. This is now my most popular story in terms of follows and favourites. I hope to accumulate more as the story goes on.**

 **I don't know when the next chapter will be out, schedules are very random just now. I'll be able to breathe properly once my exams are over in late June, so yeah. Things will get a little clearer then.**

 **Please leave a review, I'd love to know what you think!**


	11. Arguments and Forceful Persuasions

I unlocked the door to my parents' house, thinking a million times about what I was going to ask them.

I saw my mum working in the kitchen, and made my way over to her.

'Hey, Kodi,' she greeted as she saw me. 'Get done what you needed to?'

I shrugged, leaning against the doorframe. 'Well, about that… I need to talk to you. And Dad.'

My mum frowned. 'Everything okay?'

'Well yeah, it's just… Let's just wait until Dad comes. I have a feeling this will take a while.'

'Kodi, will you please just tell me what's going on?' Mum replied, putting down the cheese grater and facing me fully.

I sighed, closing my eyes. 'It's… it's Sherlock.'

'What about Sherlock?'

I jumped, seeing my father standing behind me.

'Dad!' I complained, steeling myself.

'Sorry. What's going on with Sherlock?'

'He… he wants me— he wants me to move in with him,' I muttered.

I braced myself, waiting for their reactions.

'What? And you're thinking about complying with his request?' Dad asked incredulously.

'Well, yeah,' I confirmed.

'Kodi Watson, are you insane?!' he thundered, stepping forward as if he were threatening me. 'That son of a bitch fricking tossed your emotions around like they. Were. Nothing!' His index finger came down angrily with each of the last three words.

Oh boy. I knew my parents wouldn't be accommodating to the idea at first but this. This is not what I was expecting.

'I know,' I replied, trying to calm him down. 'I know, Dad. But I think this will do us both good.' I took a deep breath. Dad had never gotten _this_ angry with me. Ever.

'How? How the fuck is you moving in with him going to do you any good?!'

I swallowed, stepping back. 'I can start trusting again. I can finally properly move on.'

Dad shook his head. 'Looks aren't everything, Kodi. He may _look_ like a bloody angel but I can assure you at heart he is anything but.' His voice shuddered, and I knew the anger was still fresh.

'Don't you think I know that?!' I yelled back, finally boiling over. 'Do you think I'm choosing to move in with him because _looks_ good?!'

'He's a fricking sociopath!' Dad countered.

'He only acts that way because people misinterpret him! I studied psychology for three years, I should know!'

'Right, yes. Go all _I've got a degree so I know best_ on me. That's how you're going to win me over.' While he wasn't shouting anymore, he was well and truly sarcastic.

' _Enough_!' My mother shouted. 'This is absolute and utter madness. Everyone, take a breather. Calm down.'

We did as she asked. I eyed my father sceptically, but he hung his head.

'Right,' Mum continued. 'I'm going to talk, and you two are going to listen. No interruptions.'

I crossed my arms, closing my eyes.

'Josh, you are really, _really_ over reacting. She's twenty seven, she can handle herself. Kodi, your father has a point. You must be _absolutely sure_ you want to do this—'

'I _am_.'

'No interruptions, Kodi. I, for one, think this is a good idea.' _You're not the only one, Mum_. 'Yes, she'll still be my baby girl but she's going to have to spread her wings and fly one day. And I think that day has come. Kodi, I think this is a brilliant idea.'

'That makes one of us,' Dad muttered. 'I'm going upstairs.'

'Dad—'

He didn't reply.

When he had disappeared, I turned to Mum. 'That is not how I planned this going,' I admitted sheepishly.

Mum smiled sympathetically. 'It's okay, honey. I'll talk to him. You know I'm on your side.'

I hugged her. 'It's just… I can finally get out from under your wing. I can finally start being a little more independent: if I move out, pressure's gonna be on to get me a job.'

'I know,' Mum replied, hugging me back. 'This'll be good for you.'

I smiled. 'Why is Dad against Sherlock so much?'

'He's your father. He's gonna be against pretty much any guy you bring home – or in this case, whose flat you move into.' She finished with a grin.

'I suppose so.' I couldn't stop the smile.

'Hey. It'll be okay. Hope is the strongest medicine, after all.'

I smiled but fought the urge to roll my eyes; Mum really loved that quote.

'I'm gonna get ahead on dinner. Wanna help?'

I smiled. 'Yeah, hold on.'

I whipped out my phone, unlocking it and pulling up my texts.

 **Does it count as me winning the bet if only one of my parents is easily persuaded? - KW**

I believed Sherlock needed to know about this new development.

'Let me just call John a second. I'll help in a bit.'

I rung John's number and waited.

'Now is not a good time, sis,' John said (I had a feeling through gritted teeth).

'Why, what's going on?' I asked, worried.

'Nothing drastic, Molly's brother's just been round and… let's just say we don't get along.'

'What happened?' I asked.

I settled myself in the living room on the sofa. 'Ross is just… skeevish. Picture Hans from Frozen but fifty times more disgusting.'

'Disgusting how?'

'He… he told me that if I ever hurt Molly, he'd kill my family.'

I winced. 'Yeah, that's… messed up.'

'He's otherwise clean, and he protects Molly a lot, he's actually been in jail twice for beating up random catcallers and attempted rapists.'

'Molly was nearly raped?!' I exclaimed.

'Nearly. It was before I knew her, when she was a teenager. The bag of shit was drunk and around thirty. Thankfully Ross was passing by the alleyway with his mates.' John sighed of relief.

'Isn't that a good thing?' I continued, confused as to why John found this dude skeevish.

'Yeah, but Molly's told him time and time and time again that I won't hurt her but… I don't know. I really don't. I just don't like him.'

I sighed. This was rather crazy. 'You don't need to,' I finally told him. 'You and Ross may not need to cross paths and if you do, just stay the hell away from each other.'

'I guess that makes sense. What was it you called for in the first place?'

'Oh. That. Yeah. You may need to be sitting down, John.'

'What's going on, Kodi?' I could hear the scepticism in his voice.

I told him exactly what I had told Mum and Dad. And his reaction was far more face-palm-worthy than anything.

'I knew it!' he exclaimed. 'I knew you would change your mind!'

I shook my head knowingly. 'This is the first time I've thought about this, you know,' I lied easily. _Oh, how untrue that was._

'The week before Molly's birthday,' John began. 'When you, Tara and I went out to get her a present. Remember? I said after Telling there would be Sherlock. You denied it almost instantly.'

My jaw dropped; I was horrified. 'John! I don't mean it like that! Like, yeah, he's gorgeous and rather sweet now that I think about it, but I don't think I'd want to go _that_ far with him.'

John chuckled, and I snapped my eyes shut in frustration. 'Yeah, okay, whatever Kodes. Tell me that again after two months of living with him. Fifty bucks.'

I groaned. 'Not you too.'

'What? Who else has a bet going on with you?'

'Sherlock bet me fifty that Mum and Dad wouldn't let me move in with him.'

'And are you winning this bet?'

'Fifty/fifty. Mum loves the idea, said it'll be good for me to finally fly on my own wings.' I kind of liked this bird analogy that we had going. 'Dad, however, is gonna need some more… _forceful_ persuading.'

'Right. I could talk to him if you want?'

'Yeah, please. Mum said she'd do it but I think he'd need to hear it from someone who's had first-hand experience with Sherlock before he lets me anywhere the guy.' I rolled my eyes. 'Why can't he just let me go?'

'You're the first daughter he's got to do this for. I mean, let's be real, Harry didn't exactly consult Mum and Dad before she practically moved out to Clara's, did she? Tell me, how long has it been since you last saw her?'

'John, that's not the point and you know it,' I scolded him.

He sighed. 'I know, I know. But believe me, Dad will take every chance to have some fun. Don't take it personally.'

'Alrighty, bro. Now I gotta go help Mum with dinner. Catch you later, John.'

'Bye, sis,' was what I heard before the line went dead.

A text arrived at that minute.

 **No. I'll give you until the end of this week. After that, if both Mr and Mrs Watson don't agree, then I get the fifty pounds. Fair? - SH**

I smiled before texting back.

 **Fair. – KW**

* * *

I lay on my bed, reading. It was getting close to eleven PM and I really should have been thinking about calling it a day.

Just as I put my book face down on my bedside table, someone knocked on the door.

'Come in!' I called. I sat up, leaning my back against the wall.

The door opened and Dad poked his head in. 'Hey, Kodi. Is it alright if we have a quick chat?' His voice contained a hint of regret and I knew our 'quick chat' was about what happened earlier this afternoon.

'Yeah, sure,' I replied, moving over to the far end of the bed to give him space to sit. 'Sit down.'

'Kodi,' Dad sighed, not meeting my eyes. 'I'm so sorry. I acted like a sick, possessed freak earlier and I just… I'm sorry, sweetheart.'

'Hey. I get it, Dad. It's okay.'

'But… you were so excited to be moving in with him and I just… I crushed your hopes with a single sentence.' Dad shook his head.

'You could tell? That I was excited?'

Dad grinned, looking down at the floor. 'You're my daughter, Kodi. I can tell that and so much more.'

I stopped in surprise. 'Hell, _I_ didn't even know that I was excited.'

'Now that you've been confronted about it, do you think you are?' he asked.

I thought about it for a second. 'Yeah,' I answered. 'Yeah, I think I am.'

Dad laughed. 'Well then. Go for it. It's time for you to fly, darling.'

I threw my arms around him in a hug. 'You know I only want what's best for you, Kodi,' he whispered as he hugged me back. 'After that first experience with him, I wasn't quite sure about him, but if he isn't Liam Telling, then he's a good guy. You're a big girl now, Kodes. I'm proud of you.'

'You've come quite a ways away from calling him a scumbag,' I laughed.

'Yeah, well. You like him. It's time I started liking him too. He's still not my version of the ideal guy for you, but he'll do.'

'Dad! I'm not going to date him! Why does everyone think that?!'

My father chuckled and I rolled my eyes. 'You say that now, give it about two months. I guarantee you'll change your mind.'

'Ugh, John said exactly the same thing, time frame and all. He bet me fifty pounds that a couple of months later, I'll be smitten with him.'

Dad grinned. 'I raised a smart son.'

I shook my head. 'And _Sherlock_ bet me fifty that both you and Mum wouldn't let me move in with you. I guess I'm going to be fifty pounds richer.'

'Hey, say if your mother and I weren't so accommodating to the idea and flat out refused to let you move away, what would you have done?'

'I… I don't know. I guess I was hoping against hope that you would agree that I didn't give my brain the chance to figure out what I'd do if things didn't go to plan… But after this afternoon, I probably think I'd have waited a couple of months and brought it up again. Who knows? Now we'll never have to find out, will we?'

'No. I love you, sweetheart.' He squeezed my hand.

I smiled. 'I love you too, Dad.'

Dad _was_ right.

I was so damn excited.

* * *

 **Oh-my-fricking-god-that-was-a-hard-update! Phew. Finally, I have this hell of a chapter perfected. Most of this was written at two AM last night, so… yeah. I'll let you guys be the judges of how good this is. Personally, I'm somewhat satisfied. But yeah. Tell me what you thought?**


	12. A New Case and Proving Them Right

'Are you ever going to unpack those suitcases?'

I looked up abruptly from my position on my (John's) chair – cross-legged and filing my nails – to see Sherlock leaning against the living room doorway, arms and ankles crossed.

I raised an eyebrow at his statement, doing my best to stop my mind from getting any implications. 'And since when does Sherlock Holmes care about whether I unpack my suitcases?' I asked with a grin.

He cocked his head to the side. 'Since he realised that you're going to be staying for a while – couple of years at the least – and that you'd rather not have to sift through several suitcases to find a shirt every day.' He finished with a smirk.

'So you can tell the future, can you?' I asked, returning my focus to my nails, though I had to bite my lip to stop the grin escaping again.

'Oh, no,' he denied definitely. 'I'm just purely stating the obvious—' My head snapped up again involuntarily. '—through facts and deduction. Simple, really.'

I exhaled. _Obvious. Was I really that obvious?_ 'Yeah, simple for you,' I reminded him. 'You're a genius.'

I watched him as he moved from the doorway and to his chair, flopping down onto his back, his legs flung across one armrest. I kept wondering how the chair didn't collapse under all his weight. But then I realised there wasn't much weight there in the first place. He was slim, but tall, no doubt with toned abs under that damned purple shirt he wore.

I realised with some reluctance that John was right. I _was_ falling for Sherlock. After _three_ weeks. And I wasn't stopping myself from doing so one bit.

What if we got together and things went wrong?

What if I ended up hurting him?

What if—

I was brought out of my daze by a hand waving in front of my face.

'Sorry, what?' I asked, watching as Sherlock stood over me, frowning.

'Why do you keep doing that?' he asked, scrutinising me.

I raised an eyebrow, shifting back in the chair to avoid craning my neck. 'What?'

'Talking and then suddenly shutting down as if you can't hear me?'

'Oh… I… I don't know… I guess I just get distracted easily, that's all,' I replied, trying not to think about _why_ I got distracted in the first place.

'Yes I get that but _why_?' he repeated, his hands flailing all over the place. 'Is it because you can't bear to hear my voice so you shut me out?'

He went and flopped on his chair, trapping his legs under him. I had to avert my eyes like the speed of lightning to avoid them popping at the sight.

And of course, he noticed. 'Now you can't even bear to look at me! Tell me, why did you agree to move in with me if you keep avoiding me like the plague?'

I glared at him. 'Because if I moved in with you I would be having a fresh start! No psychos, no fuckbrains, just me and you and peace!'

I stood up from my chair and stormed upstairs.

 _He thought I didn't like him._

 _He thought I was trying to avoid him because I hated him._

I sat on my bed, staring at my closed door, somehow willing Sherlock open it and open his arms for me. I would gladly embrace him with everything I had after our little episode downstairs.

But after fifteen minutes of silent staring, nothing came.

So I hastily looked at my suitcases, knowing I really did have to unpack them _some_ time.

I set to work, hauling the first of my six suitcases onto my bed. I opened it and the first thing I came in contact with was the letter Liam sent me, a couple of months after we broke up.

I didn't open it. Even after six months of receiving the letter, my curiosity hadn't piqued enough for me to read what he had written. I should have thrown it out the minute I received it.

But now my curiosity was piqued at its highest, and I tore open the envelope and I (hesitantly) started reading it.

 _Dear Kodi_

 _I know you're really hating on me now and I understand that. You have every right to be. I just… I love you, Kodes. The thing with Brianna was just a fling. I enjoyed it but it was just a fling. You can accept that right—_

I stopped reading, my anger very triggered. _I love you. Just a fling. You can accept that?_ What was this shit?

Unwillingly, my eyes flicked downwards and I carried on reading.

 _I know this is a crazy ask but… take me back? I promise I'll treat you right this time. You deserve the best of the best. I can be the man you want me to be—_

I scoffed. Yeah, okay, Liam. Sure.

— _and I swear we'll be exclusive this time around._

 _Please?_

 _I know I'll hate myself forever if you don't accept. Call me if yes._

 _Liam xx_

Yeah, he should hate himself forever, the scum.

I screwed up the letter and threw it forcefully into the waste paper basket… and it felt good. I felt like a weight was lifted off my shoulders. I felt like I was… free.

'From that ex of yours?'

I looked up, startled. Sherlock was once again leaning against the open doorway, a dorky grin lining his features.

'How the hell did I not hear you come in?' I asked.

'Well, I'm betting you were… what did you say downstairs… oh yes. You were distracted. Was that from the man you hate with your guts?'

I smiled slightly, looking up at him. 'Yeah. I just… he wanted to take me back, Sherlock… He said the thing with that other piece of bullshit was just a fling and that he… loves me.'

'And are you believing him?'

'I don't know. He said he _enjoyed_ the fling he had. If he enjoyed it, how can he love me?'

'There's your answer. He doesn't. All he wants to do is hurt you. He told you he's a changed man, right?'

I grinned. 'Near enough. Said he could be the man I wanted him to be.'

'If he hurt you once, he won't hesitate to do it again.' He tilted his head. 'Yes that's very harsh of me but it's the truth.'

'And you say you've never really been in a relationship,' I teased.

'What do you mean?' he asked.

'I mean… that was some pretty sound advice. And you knew what he'd said on the letter probably just from reading the reactions on my face. I know I'm an open book at times but you can't have known that without experiencing it first-hand.'

He smirked. 'I'm a man of many secrets, Kodi.'

'I know,' I told him. 'Listen… I'm sorry about earlier. I guess I do get distracted quite easily.'

'No, that's fine. I understand,' he replied.

'You do?' I asked, confused.

'Of course. It's not every day that a woman admits she can't look me in the eyes because she's in love with me, is it?' he finished, grinning.

'What? I didn't admit that!' I protested, knowing full well that I was busted.

'Maybe not in words, but I understand body language more than I do words,' he explained.

I had to smile after that. 'Yeah, well. What can I say?' I said somewhat sheepishly. 'So you're telling me that when you asked what I was doing when I moved in with you, you knew what the answer was all this time?'

'Of course. I'm Sherlock Holmes. If I can't deduce when a woman loves me, what use am I?'

'You're useful on Lestrade's cases one way or the other,' I suggested.

'True, true.'

My phone rang straight after. I picked it up, seeing Tara's name flashing on the screen. 'Hold on, let me just take this,' I told Sherlock before answering the call.

'T,' I greeted.

'Kodi… help… please…' Tara said, in a whisper. I could hear her winces of pain, her heavy breath.

'What is it, what's wrong, where are you?' I gabbled out hurriedly.

'Hurts… help… I'm bleeding, _owwwww_!'

' _Tara_!' I stood up, frantically, not knowing what to do. 'Tara, where are you?'

'You know—argh, you know… by the old—by the old corner shop there's that—that alleyway that no one uses?'

'Okay, we're coming. You'll be okay.' I didn't hang off.

'Sherlock we need to go. Can you get us a cab?'

'What is it? What's wrong with your friend?' he asked hastily as he threw on his Belstaff.

'I don't know, she's in pain and she's bleeding.'

We walked out of the flat, Sherlock hailing a cab in five seconds flat. We sat, waiting to be there.

'T, can you tell me what happened?' I asked desperately.

'A dude—he tried to get—argh, in my pants—and when I didn't let him, he—he knifed me.'

'A dude tried to rape you?'

'He didn't, I—I didn't let him, but this thing in my—' she winced and then screamed.

And from the way both Sherlock and the cab driver flinched, I knew they'd heard it too.

'Please,' I said, taking the phone away from my ear. 'Can you go any faster?'

The driver accelerated and it only took us a further five minutes before we were at the alleyway by the abandoned corner shop.

I flub the car door open, running up to Tara's side, a little more than halfway in the alleyway. I gasped before I sank next to my knees.

Her white shirt was stained with blood, still pooling out of the wound on the side of her abdomen, although it looked ebony black in the darkness of the night. Her hair looked like it had been chopped off, her usually long beautiful brown locks having been reduced to a very messy bob. A gash lined her cheek.

'Sherlock, give me your scarf,' I instructed firmly.

'But I—' he started saying.

'I'll buy you a new one, please we have to save her,' I told him, my voice breaking with fright.

He handed me his scarf and I rolled it up and pressed it to the biggest of her wounds. 'Call the hospital and Lestrade, we need to find out who did this,' I told Sherlock.

I had to stop myself from crying as I took in my best friend's broken state. Tara managed a weak smile. 'Kodes, if I don't make it—out of this alive, you have to—promise me one thing.'

'T, don't say that. You're gonna be fine,' I whispered, my tears falling. I held the scarf to her gash with one hand and took her hand with the other.

'Even so, you have to promise,' she insisted.

'What?'

'Promise me you'll go after him. Promise me you'll try to—get together with Sherlock. He makes you happy, I can see that.'

I laughed through my tears. 'That might be closer than we all think,' I told her. 'You'll be here to see it, don't worry.'

Just then I heard ambulance sirens. 'See? Help is on its way,' I said.

'More like death,' she whispered. She coughed up blood and my eyes widened.

But then the doctors arrived, and started pulling Tara onto a stretcher. I squeezed her hand and then shakily stood up.

I walked, wiping my tears on the way, over to Sherlock who was conversing with Lestrade. 'Look, you guys better find out who did this!' I demanded.

'I assure you we will,' Lestrade reassured me. 'Your friend deserves justice.'

'How did you—'

'You forget,' Sherlock interjected. 'He's been talking to the World's Only Consulting Detective.' He grinned. 'Come here.'

He held his arms out and I stepped forward into the hug, my tears falling once again. Though this time I wasn't quite sure if my tears were only to do with Tara's injury. No, I had a feeling they were to do with something else.

I felt safe here with Sherlock, not scared, at peace, like I belonged. And I liked that.

'We'll find who did this, Kodi,' Sherlock whispered in my ear, and I had to suppress a shudder. 'And if Scotland Yard can't do it, I will. I promise you.'

I smiled. 'Good,' I whispered back.

We stayed like that for a while, though I was no longer aware that Lestrade had left us. I stepped out of his hold, yet my arms still rested on his shoulders. 'You should probably get to work, then,' I said.

'I should,' Sherlock repeated.

Before closing the space between us in a long, drugging kiss.

For a second, I was stunned, my eyes widening. Then I tightened my arms around his neck, my eyes drifting shut, responding. His lips were softer than I imagined they would be (and believe me, I imagined a lot) and his hands a lot more delicate as they pulled me closer.

When he pulled back, there was a foreign twinkle in his eye. 'Better get to work,' he said, and he left with a wink.

I stared after him as he left, my fingers veering up to my lips. I smiled. I could think of at least four people who'd love to know about that kiss. I wasn't looking forward to telling them one bit, if the _I told you's_ and _I knew it's_ were anything to go by.

I leant back against the wall, watching, waiting.

Waiting as the World's Only Consulting Detective worked with Scotland Yard to find Tara's attempted rapist.

Waiting until the time came for Sherlock and I to be together.

* * *

 **This update wasn't nearly as hard as the last, thank god. I hope you enjoyed it, please leave a review.**


	13. Slight Progression in Every Aspect

' _Kodi… Kodi, wake up…'_

 _I turned around in a flash, my thoughts turning cloudy. That sounded like_ John's _voice. But John wasn't here. Here, it was just me. Where did_ John _come from?_

' _Jesus, woman, wake up.'_

 _And why the hell was he telling me to wake up? I was already awake – up and running, in fact – literally._

 _Unless… I wasn't._

My eyes fluttered open to see John's face looming over me. The sun cast everything in a pale yellow light and I squinted, feeling out of place in this new setting.

I felt like I had been here before but I just couldn't place the feeling. I was leant against a brick wall, one of my legs bent and the other lying straight ahead.

'Where am I?' I mumbled.

'You came here after Tara's phone call last night—'

And that's when it all set in. Tara's phone call, her injury, learning she was nearly raped, _my and Sherlock's kiss_.

I stood up hastily. 'Where's Tara? Is she okay?'

'She's fine,' a new voice said, one I recognised as Sherlock. I couldn't meet his eyes. 'Her mother called on your phone but since you were sleeping I guessed I'd better take it. But, yes, she's fine. The hospital were able to stitch up the wound on her abdomen… and yeah…'

A silence followed… one that was becoming incessantly awkward. I cleared my throat.

'Okay… so I'll go see if I can see her. Any evidence found on the scumbag?' I looked just over Sherlock's shoulder while addressing him; I couldn't _actually_ look at him.

'Footprints, and blond hair,' Sherlock replied. 'We're just about to go to the lab to analyse them.'

'Were we here all night?' I asked.

'You and Sherlock were, yes,' John piped in. 'I was called to the scene at around three; the dirt from the dude's shoe was something Sherlock thought _I_ could process.' I saw him glare at Sherlock, who blushed and looked down at his feet.

 _Adorable_.

I paid no attention to my mind, instead looking at John. 'Catch a cab ride to the hospital with me?' I asked him.

'Uh, yeah, alright,' he muttered, confused. 'But don't you want to go with—'

'Come on then!' I squealed, overly cheerful. I walked out of the alleyway and to curb, waiting on a cab to drive up so I could hail it.

John was next to me in an instant. 'You're gonna pass up a ride with Sherlock?' he asked immediately.

I didn't look over at him as I scanned the road. 'I have my reasons,' I told him simply.

'What happened, Kodi Watson?' he asked. He remembered our days in primary school then.

I smiled slightly. 'Nothing happened, sir.'

'Sure?' he asked again as I held my arm out to signal a cab.

'Very,' I replied.

We entered the cab and after giving our destination to the cabbie, the ride passed in small talk, my life with Sherlock, for now, forgotten.

* * *

I walked into Tara's hospital room, after meeting with her parents in the hallway, who were on their way out.

I knocked, and when my best friend looked over at the door, I let myself in.

Tara's eyes lit up and I found myself smiling, slightly flattered that I could evoke such a reaction in her. 'Hi!' she greeted me brightly.

'Hey,' I replied softly. 'You okay?'

Her smile didn't reach her eyes. 'Physically? I'm recovering. Mentally and emotionally? Fucking far from it.' Her eyes grew dark and I walked forward to take her hand.

'I wish I could say I know how you feel, T, but I honestly can't.' I shook my head. 'I'm so sorry.' I sighed as I closed my eyes.

'Hey,' she told me firmly. 'It wasn't your fault. You didn't know it was gonna happen, Kodi.'

I tried to smile, but failed, my eyes drifting up to her hair. It didn't even reach the bottom of her neck. 'Jeez, what has he done to you?'

Her right hand ran itself through what was remaining of the locks on her head. It didn't stop when it reached the bottom (far too quickly) and she screwed it up when there was no hair left to feel. 'It—it'll grow back, hon.' I knew it pained her to be like this; her hair was one of her gorgeous traits and she knew it.

The cut on her cheek was scarring already and I knew that that was what she was talking about when she said she was physically recovering. 'And the wound on your stomach…' I trailed off.

She undid the ropes that were holding her hospital gown in place and pushed one side away to let me see the bandage that circled the lower half of her torso and covered the wound. 'They've changed the bandages three times since I got here,' she pointed to the blood stain that was already evident. 'But even through the stitches it's not holding on.'

My eyes widened. 'Then that's bad stitching. It shouldn't do that. Once it's stitched up it should stop all blood loss.'

She patted my hand. 'The head of the department says they're going to redo it. They have to.'

I took a shaky breath. 'They better.'

She smiled slightly. 'They will. Don't worry about it.'

I squeezed her hand. 'T, do you think you're… stable enough… to talk about it?' I asked nervously. 'I'm not asking you to describe how it felt or relive it or anything,' I added hastily. 'Just that Sherlock and Lestrade are trying to find the bastard and they need a sort of physical description.'

'I'm fine to talk about it… or I would be, if I could remember a single bloody detail.' She glanced up at me apologetically. 'Sorry Kodes. It was dark as hell and I was scared and I didn't—'

I silenced her by wrapping her in a careful hug, my eyes filling with tears. 'It's okay. You don't have to. It's okay. I'm just glad that he didn't get to do what he intended to do.'

Tara pulled away. 'Yeah but Kodi, it worked,' she whispered, looking at me with fright in her eyes. She held onto my forearms as I frowned.

'What did?' I whispered back, sniffing.

'Remember I said I would always be the ever glorious single?' I nodded. 'That was a joke back then. I was sure that when the time was right I'd find some dude to spend the rest of my life with.'

'What's changed?' I asked her, my voice slightly louder.

'I don't ever want to. I couldn't sleep last night and… I did some thinking. And I've come to the conclusion that I'm aromantic.'

My eyes widened as I processed this new information. 'That… that's cool. It's okay,' I reassured her.

'But… I used to make fun of your brother and sister… I used to ask them if they were normal… fucking karma or what?'

'Hey,' I frowned. 'You don't have to have a partner if you don't want to. And remember; nothing is ever normal, T.'

She smiled as she remembered what I said to her months before. 'Nothing is normal,' she repeated, smiling.

She froze a moment later. 'I think I remember something!'

'What?' I asked her calmly.

'It was really dark so I don't think it's exact,' she started. 'But he had hair longer than mine and I think it was a light brown slash dark blond but I can't exactly tell. His eyes were dark but then so was my blood, so that doesn't help. He was wearing baggy black jeans and a dark hoodie.'

'Okay…' and suddenly a light flashed on in my head.

 _Long hair._

 _Lightly coloured._

 _Always in dark, baggy jeans._

 _Never left home without a hoodie._

' _I could love you more than he does.'_

' _Piss off. I don't love you. That's final.'_

'Shit…' I whispered, my arms slacking and dropping out of Tara's.

'What, Kodi?' she asked urgently. 'What do you know?'

'Remember when I went out with Telling there was that best friend, Elias something-or-other White? The dude who tried to convince me he was better at loving me than Liam was? I told you about him, right?'

She thought for a while before she looked up at me. 'Yes, I do remember him but… I swear he's not like that!'

I sucked in a breath. 'I swore he wasn't like that too but apparently we were wrong.'

'Seriously. Elias White. I would never have thought it,' Tara muttered through gritted teeth.

I laughed. 'Oi, we don't even have any solid evidence, T. I'll text Sherlock the details and then we'll know.'

I pulled out my phone, pulling up my texts. I clicked on John's name.

 **Tell Sherlock that we might have a possible suspect. Elias James White, 29, studied at London Met Uni in 2006/7. KW.**

'Done,' I said.

I looked back at my phone screen to find that it was telling me John was typing.

 **Okay, why can't you tell him yourself? What happened? JW.**

I groaned.

'What?' Tara asked. I held up a finger to tell her to wait a second and then typed out a reply.

 **I told you I have my reasons. Just pass the message onto him and we can all live happily ever after. KW.**

I inhaled. 'He kissed me last night,' I told her.

'What?!' she exclaimed, then winced as she stretched her abdomen.

'Yeah. And we haven't talked to each other since,' I said sheepishly.

'Well then, darling,' she started saying in her 'posh' accent. 'Off you go to have a deep, meaningful talk with your man. Hurry along now!' She pushed at me and waved me off.

'Alright, alright, I'm going. Jeez.' I walked over to the door.

'Text me the detes, girl!' she yelled as I made my farewells.

I walked back out to see John in the waiting room, looking up at me, puzzled.

'Did you do it?' I asked as he hauled himself up and fell into line beside me.

'Yeah but… what's going on between you two?' he asked once again.

I whipped my head round to glare at him. 'Ask me that again and your face'll become well acquainted with my fist,' I hissed through gritted teeth.

He reeled. 'Okay. Okay. Sorry.'

I took a deep breath. 'I'm going back to Baker Street,' I announced as my long strides increased the distance between us. 'I suggest you go back to yours.'

'But—' John had to jog to catch up with me.

'Please. I'll tell you it all later. Just let me be.'

I heard him give a crestfallen sigh as the crisp February air hit me in the face. 'Okay. Alright. But Kodi?'

I turned back to look at him, raising my eyebrow. 'Come here,' he said, holding his arms out. I stepped forward to hug him, smiling slightly. 'I'm here for you,' he whispered.

'I know,' I muttered back. 'Love you.'

'Love you too, sis.'

Then we parted and without another glance in his direction, I was on my way.

* * *

I stood in the doorway of the living room, watching as Sherlock had his eyes fixated on the TV. He was still in his Belstaff and had his knees up to his chest and his arms crossed. Either he'd not heard me enter or he was choosing to ignore me. Even though it was highly unlikely (I'd lived here for a month, he must have known the sound of my footsteps by now), I prayed that it was the first option.

'Sherlock?' I asked tentatively.

He looked up abruptly, catching my eye. So. Option number one it was.

'Hi,' he said, a hint of a smile gracing his lips.

'We…' I shook my head. 'Can I talk to you?'

'Your chair is across from mine,' he nodded in the general direction of the seat, while uncrossing his arms and sitting up straight in his own chair.

'Yeah,' I muttered as I went to sit down. 'So…' How the fuck did I even start this conversation?

'You want to talk about this morning,' he stated bluntly.

I exhaled. That was one way of putting it. 'Yeah. I do.'

'Say all you want to say. I'm listening.' He gave me an encouraging smile as he switched the TV off.

'Where does that put us? What are we now?' I asked, wringing my hands.

'You want to put a label on us?' he asked.

'Well—yeah. I like labels. I can relate to shit with labels. And it's comforting to know where exactly I fit in.'

He smiled at me and I caught the slightest twitch of his fingers. 'Well. I like your logic,' he complimented.

'So?' I prompted. 'What are we?'

He grinned mischievously. 'Does _in a relationship_ sound good to you?'

I raised an eyebrow, struggling to stifle a smirk. 'Is that your Sherlock-esque way of asking me out?'

He shrugged. 'Might be,' he answered. 'Depends if you decide to say yes. _Does_ it sound good?'

' _Obviously_.'

I don't know when we'd started walking, because suddenly, there wasn't an inch of space between us. My left hand was buried in the curls at the back of his neck, my right arm wrapped around his shoulders. His arms pulled me in at the waist as the kiss started to deepen. My mind filled with warmth at the thought that _I was kissing Sherlock Holmes._

We parted a while later, when the need to breathe was getting more and more evident. I looked up at him, breathing heavily. I was pretty sure that his eyes showed more of that foreign twinkle from yesterday. He smiled at me and lowered his head until his chin rested on top of my hair, his arms still around my waist. I manoeuvred myself slightly so my cheek rested against his shoulder, sighing softly.

There was a pleasantly overwhelming sensation of contentment, which I wasn't sure how it surfaced. All I knew was that it had something to do with the man whose arms I was standing in. And that was the best sensation ever.

* * *

 **Well. It has been over a year since I started this, and we're not even halfway through the story. Wow. This a first for me. Usually my multi-chaps are finished within a month or two, three at most. Thank my declining mental health for that.**

 **Hope you enjoyed it, please leave me a review to tell me what you thought!**


	14. A Couple of Leads and Settling of Fright

I sat with a book in my lap that I was trying my hardest to read.

But it wasn't happening. I couldn't focus on the words at all.

It didn't help that the main character's name was Tara and every time I read those four letters on the pages, my mind drifted back to my best friend who was stuck in hospital and the sick bastard who put her there.

It was an understatement to say that I was pissed off.

Sherlock was out at the alleyway with John, trying to find some more evidence on Tara's attacker.

I was meant to be job hunting but... I found nothing. I felt horribly and utterly useless and for that reason I was finding myself to be rather crestfallen and more than a little annoyed with myself.

Eventually, after I had been sitting there moping for about an hour, my phone pinged. I sighed with relief and closed the book.

The screen flashed with _Snapchat:_ _Big Bro 3 sent a photo_

I opened the text, rather confused as to what he'd be sending me. What stared back up at me rendered me speechless.

It was a picture of Sherlock and I, with a caption of 'Well, would you look at that'. The hug from last night. How the hell did John get a photo of _that_?

I typed back a semi-angry text: **Where did you get that photo? KW**

Before I could read his reply, my phone rang, signalling the name ' _Sherlock_ ', which covered the top half of the screen.

'Hey,' I answered.

'Hey listen, we don't have much time; I need you to do something for me, okay?' he instructed in a hushed voice.

'Yeah, sure... what's going on?' I slowly unfurled my legs from their crossed position.

'We may have a couple of leads, and I need you to send me photos of another victim's file. Normally I'd go get them myself but I need to set up a plan.'

'Oh, um, okay. What's the victim's name?' I asked as I stood up.

'His name is...' It sounded like Sherlock was unfolding a piece of paper. 'Nikolas Frederick Bassett, nicknamed Nicky. He died at age nineteen four years ago.'

'Right okay. Give me an hour, I'll probably be able to physically get them to you,' I said as I slipped my free arm in my coat sleeve.

'Thank you, Kodi. I owe you one.'

'Don't sweat it, it's cool. I'll see you later, Sherlock.' I switched the phone to my other arm and put my coat on fully.

'You too.' And then the call ended.

I exhaled slowly, went to put my shoes on, and left the house.

I read John's text as I sat in the cab.

 **Seems you have a sneaky landlady ;) JW**

My anger melted away and my body gave way to a laugh when I discovered it was just Mrs Hudson and her soft heart.

The cab ride passed in small talk with the driver, and thoughts of what I would see in Nicky Bassett's files. Was he murdered? Suicide? Accidental death? Whatever it was, there was no way he deserved to die at such a young age: he was barely an adult when his life was taken from him.

But if Sherlock thought there was a connection between him and this case, then my best guess was murder. I shuddered as I thought what might have happened to Tara had she not called and we didn't get there in time.

The hospital had said that with three weeks of rest and a month of crutches (because the abdominal wound ran down to her hip, which meant that it stung when she moved her leg), she would be right as rain and could go back to living her life.

I paid the cabbie and walked into Bart's, where I saw Molly in her uniform exiting the lift. A stack of papers were clutched to her chest, which she took to the reception desk and handed over to the receptionist.

I walked over to her, and waited as she finished her conversation with the woman behind the desk.

'Hey, Kodi. Everything okay?' she enquired as she faced me.

'Um yeah,' I answered. 'I just need to ask a favour.'

'Okay, do you want to come into my office? We can talk about it there?'

I nodded, and we started walking. 'So, you and Sherlock seem to be getting along well?' She winked as we exited the lift on the third floor.

I sighed, rolling my eyes, mock annoyed. 'Hudders sent you the photo, too?'

'John did,' she clarified. 'This morning.'

I laughed, trying to sound malicious, but sounding rather soft. I wouldn't have been surprised if he had sent it to Tara as well.

We entered a room with a sign saying _Dr Hooper, Pathologist._

'So what do you need me to do?' Molly asked as she offered me a seat.

'John filled you in on his and Sherlock's latest case, right?' I asked.

'No?'

I told her about Tara's phone call, the injuries, the attempted rape (to which I swear she flinched), the evidence, and finally, the reason for my visit.

'You do realise I'm going to be breaking a hell of a lot of policies giving you Master Bassett's files, right?' Molly queried as I ended my synopsis. She opened her filing cabinet, putting the papers from her desk into the drawer. 'I know they're needed for this case but... I can't officially give them to you.'

'Molly, please,' I begged. 'We need to catch the fuckbag who did this. I'll bring them right back after Sherlock's done with them, I promise you.'

'Kodi...'

'Please, Molly?' I pleaded.

'Look, can you ask Sherlock if you can photograph them?' she proposes. 'That way I'd be breaking a few less policies as the actual files aren't leaving the hospital.'

'He said that at first actually,' I explained. 'I just—'

'Thought you'd go and see your boyfriend, am I right?' she smirked.

I mentally face palmed. 'Put it that way if you like, Moll.' I half grinned.

'So it'll be alright to send them by photograph?'

I nodded. 'I'll ask how much of the files he needs.' I sent Sherlock a quick text.

His reply was immediate.

 **I'll need it all if it's possible. SH**

'I'll need to take photos of all of it,' I told Molly as I shut off my phone.

'Alright, follow me.'

I followed Molly up two more floors to a room that was filled from ceiling to floor, wall to wall with shelves of boxes of files. In one of the far corners stood a small, brown table.

I gasped as we entered the room and Molly switched the overhead light on. 'Are all these files of people who have died?' I breathed, aghast.

'About sixty percent of them,' she informs me. 'The rest are people who have been discharged, referred to other places or still here.'

'Right okay,' I begin. 'How are we going to find a single person in a whole room full of them?' I look expectantly at Molly.

'You have any info on him? Death date? Birth date? Referral date?'

I think for a minute before I remember. 'Sherlock said that Nicky was nineteen when he died and he died four years ago—2011 or 2012.'

'Okay. You check the 2011 death section, I'll check 2012? All names are displayed alphabetically by surname.'

I agreed and set to work, pulling out box after box of people whose surnames began with the letter B and setting them on the floor.

After an hour or so of searching, Molly found what I was looking for. 'Ah! Here we go,' she exclaimed. 'One Nikolas Frederick Bassett, age at time of death: nineteen years and eight months.'

'Molly, you're a genius,' I praised as I straightened up from bending over the twelfth box.

She smiled sheepishly, handing me a cardboard folder with the boy's name on the front.

I opened the file and looked through it, photographing each page as I went along.

When I was done, I handed the files back to Molly, helped her stack the boxes back up onto the shelves and then sent the photos I'd taken to Sherlock.

I made my farewell and caught a cab to the alleyway. Sherlock, John and Lestrade were there, along with another, more important-looking man dressed in a posh suit who was leaning on an umbrella.

'Hey, guys!' I greeted as I reached them. I nodded in Lestrade's direction and smiled softly at Sherlock. I childishly stuck my tongue out at John, earning me an eye roll.

I looked at the other man, unsure of what to make of him, when he started to speak.

'Kodi Watson, am I correct?' he asked, raising an eyebrow.

And instantly, my mind rewinded back to that first night with Sherlock, where the first thing he said to me was that line. I shuddered.

Before I could respond in any way, Sherlock piped up. 'Um, Kodi. This is my brother, Mycroft. He's come to help us with the plan.'

Sherlock has a brother?

I couldn't think further on that as Sherlock had started to fill me in on their findings.

'... Elias White. There have been a few other victims murdered by our mystery man, and all of them have been raped and _then_ murdered. Those victims able to fight the rape had been stabbed with a knife, in the hopes that they would bleed to death. Only those lucky enough to get help, like Tara, were lucky enough to survive. All our victims have been stabbed in exactly the same way: right side of the body, stomach down to the thigh.'

Sherlock handed me a wad of photos. As I sifted through them, my hand flew to my mouth. All these people, some hardly out of their teen hood, some in their thirties, were all lying in this very alleyway, stabbed in the abdomen and very, _very_ dead. 'Oh my god!' I cried.

I handed the photos back to Sherlock, who tucked them into his inside pocket, out of my sight. _This very alleyway_. Seemed like anyone who stepped foot here was hurt in some way. I was suddenly very scared for my friends and family.

I shuffled closer to Sherlock, who subtly gripped my hand. He smiled at me, mouthing _okay?_ I nodded, smiling slightly.

Lestrade turned to us as he ended his phone call. 'That was Martinez. He said that White's been located.'

'What?' I squeak, unable to find my voice.

'They've finally found him. For the better part of two decades, he's been on the run, but now we've found him, we'll arrest him tonight and detain him.'

'Right.' That was Mycroft. 'Are we finished here?'

'Yes, yes,' Sherlock replied irritably. 'We'll see you later, Mycroft.'

Mycroft nodded at him and after a swift kiss on Lestrade's cheek (that was new), he was on his way.

'Well. Now that White has been detained, we'll arrest him tomorrow morning and maybe this can all lay to rest.'

Lestrade left us alone.

'I see you've been sending the picture of my and Kodi's intimacy to other people?' Sherlock smirked at John.

'Well it was interesting. Kodi, it's been only three weeks; you told me nothing would happen in two months!' John grinned.

'Yeah well what can I say?' I answered, beaming despite the fear that was starting to eat away at me.

'I don't know,' John chuckled. 'Goodnight, you two.'

'Night, John,' we chorused simultaneously.

* * *

I sat on the sofa back home (221b Baker Street was _home_ ), chewing at my fingernails.

'You okay?' Sherlock looked up from his microscope, his eyebrows knitted together in concern.

I had been sitting there staring blankly at some TV programme, not paying attention in the slightest, ever since we returned from the crime scene four hours ago.

I paused, my heart beating fast against my chest. I inhaled, then exhaled. 'Sherlock, if Tara hadn't called me, you're saying she wouldn't have survived?' I stared at him, apprehensive of the answer.

'Oh Kodi,' he sighed, dropping whatever was on his slide onto the table. He was by my side on the sofa in an instant. His arm slid around my shoulders as he pulled me close. 'Don't think like that. Tara survived. She'll be fine. The girl is smart. She knew what to do to keep herself alive.'

'All those victims,' I whispered, my tears beginning to fall. 'They died in that alleyway. All of them. Who'll be next?'

'No one,' Sherlock confirmed confidently. 'We've caught the culprit, he won't hurt anyone else.'

'Elias isn't like that though. He'd never hurt a single soul. I knew him in uni. He was best friends with Liam.'

Sherlock smiled sadly, kissing my temple. 'I'm sorry to say this but maybe your ex rubbed off on him.'

'Maybe,' I muttered, yawning.

He ran his hand through my hair as he lay me on his lap. 'Try to sleep, Kodi. It's all okay now.'

The sensation of Sherlock's hand in my hair was especially calming and soon enough, I was dreaming.

* * *

 **Oh my damn Jesus. Five months. Five bloody months. I'm sorry. You may need to wait longer for chapter 15 as I have yet more exams on the horizon :/ Please review, because reviews are encouraging? Thanks guys.**


End file.
